#hot symbols in your area

[several---times]

Are your Breathing Habits making you Predictable?

Is Your Toe Age Belittling Your Stature?

Is Your Thymus Impacting Oil Futures?

What is Your Iris Pattern Doing to Your Love of Panic?

[cvmcicle]

we are so back

ib; flower idea credit to @potato-lord-but-not ..? (hope tag okay)

[x-brik-x]

I'm seeing a lot of people say that punk fashion is expensive and inaccessible, which is very wrong. here is a list of some ways you can make punk fashion easier, cheaper and more accessible for you, since that's... kinda the whole point.

others are encouraged to add onto this!! (just don't recommend corporations like amazon. not cool.)

1. patches!! you don't need to buy them. DIY patches are not ugly or boring. in fact, they are encouraged here!! DIY, in my opinion, is always the best thing to do when it is an option and is safe to do so.

2. speaking of DIY, spikes!! you can make them!!

cut the top and bottom off of an empty can. cut down the middle of the cylinder and flatten it, so it's just a flat rectangle of metal.

cut out a shape that is kind of a third of a circle, but around 3/4 of the curved edge is taken up by triangle shapes. (I'm not very good at describing, so here's a badly drawn picture)

roll it into a cone, leaving the 4 triangles sticking out at the bottom. this bit is optional, but you can fill it with hot glue to make it more sturdy, just be careful touching the hot metal. I tend to hold the cone by one of the triangles with a bit of fabric wrapped around my fingers for this bit. cut 4 small holes in your fabric in this kind of shape:

and put the spiky bits of triangle through the holes. fold the triangles in on themselves to secure the spike in place. boom. spike obtained. this is one I made and attached to a little piece of fabric to test this method out:

3. battle vests!! (like the base jackets). the best places to buy these are charity shops and second hand websites in my opinion, but if anyone else knows any better options, please reblog with those!!

a good trick I find works well on eBay is to filter search results to your country (or state? can you do that in the US? idk) so that a: fast delivery because local, and b: all the sellers of everything that shows up are in YOUR TIME ZONE.

why is this important? when people sell something for really cheap, it goes FAST. check eBay at like, 2am or something. all the scalpers in your area are asleep. grab the cheap stuff while they can't.

4. sewing!! want patches, but can't sew for whatever reason? I've heard of a lot of people with joint conditions like arthritis complain about the inaccessibility of patch stuff, and that does sound extremely annoying, however:

safety pins!! while they are still a little fiddly, they're much less work so you don't have to fiddle about for long. if you can, you could even ask a friend to help, since it doesn't take long at all I'm sure someone will be willing to help out!! (I know I would, but that's just me, and I love this kind of thing). safety pins on clothes are also widely considered to be a symbol of solidarity, so if anything, you're adding some extra love and meaning to your patch pants/battle jacket.

if that's still too fiddly, fabric glue is always an option. unfortunately this means you won't be able to remove/reposition patches, at least without leaving a massive patch of residue, but if you're ok with that then fabric glue is probably your best bet.

for people who prefer sewing: as for where to get the thread, I've heard a lot of people recommending dental floss, as it's apparently much cheaper and works just as well. I haven't tried this myself so can't confirm that, but I thought I'd share it regardless.

5. where to get fabric!! old clothes. rip em up. you don't need any kind of fancy fabric from the craft store. my patches are made of old jeans that I grew out of.

don't have any old clothes and you don't want to waste any good ones? I'm not sure about other countries, but in the UK, as long as you're not on private property (trespassing), dumpster diving is perfectly legal.

I definitely ;) do NOT encourage ;) trespassing rich people's land ;) to steal from their dumpsters ;)

or tbh it doesn't matter too much how rich the person is, since it's all going to landfill anyway. if it's in the bin, it's free game, but you didn't hear that from me. ;)

please add onto this where you can!! and if I missed something or got anything wrong, add that on too!!

[peachesofteal]

Soap x Cypher's masterlist 18+ mdni / dark and twisty themes / dubcon / explicit, spanking Soap/female reader Sergeant MacTavish teaches you a lesson about honesty

"Cypher."

"Yeah?" You barely look up, too focused on the raw data that's filtering across your screen.

"Laswell asked for you." You don't hear it at first, the request. You're too lost in the lines and lines of code, numbers, letters, symbols all working together, where is it, where- "Cypher!" your coworker barks, and you jump.

"Shit. Sorry... what?"

"Laswell. Upstairs. Briefing room. Now?" Your lips quirk, head hanging. Yeah, guess you deserved that.

"Did she say for what?"

"No. And it's not my place to ask." They jerk their head, and you lockdown your console. Fine.

Station Chief Laswell scares you. She's probably one of the smartest people you've ever met, quick with analysis, observation, she can read a situation from top to bottom in less than three seconds. She knows everyone, and everything.

And, she handles the 141.

You don't have frequent interaction with her. You report to her, ultimately, but it's hard to understand where she falls on the org chart. It's hard to understand where you fall on the org chart, if you're being honest, since you're not military, just a civilian contractor. All of the authoritative titling and chain of command makes your head spin a little bit, and you've pretty much decided to ignore it all. Keep your head down, do your job, mind your ps and qs. Your yes sirs and no sirs.

You tap your knuckles against the briefing room door.

"Come in." It's a man's voice, a deep, smooth voice with a British accent, and it makes you pause, confused. I thought Laswell was up here?

You push the door open, hesitantly, and what you find makes your stomach nearly crawl up into your mouth.

The 141 are in here. You glance around hastily before finding Laswell, eyes a little wider than you’re comfortable with. They’re all seated at the table, looking at you, and when you peek at Sergeant MacTavish, he cocks his head so subtly, you might have missed it. Fuck. Shit. Why is he looking at you like that? You think you might pass out. Why do you feel like this around him?

"Gentleman. This is the civilian specialist I told you about." She gestures to you, giving them your government name before continuing, and they all nod. "This is Captain Price, Lieutenant Riley, Sergeant Garrick, and Sergeant MacTavish." She points to each, making the introductions to which you nod, and smile, trying as hard as you can to make eye contact so they don't think you're rude. When she gets to MacTavish, your stomach heats, and on instinct, your eyes drop to the floor before glancing back up to find him focused on you, jaw tight, eyes narrowed.

"You're Cypher." Lieutenant Riley comments, and you nod, surprised. How does he know you?

"That's uh... my nickname. Sir."

“Cypher is our resident analytics expert, and we believe she’s located your targets.” Laswell continues, tapping a key on her laptop that wakes up the black screen of the giant TV. You do a double take when you see your work up there, your lists of compiled data, cross matched and sorted. “I was hoping you could walk them through some of this.” Oh. Oh no. Talk to them?

“Uh okay.” Your fingers find each other, instinctually, trying to pick and tear at your skin as your heart rate speeds up. “This is-“ you glance at the screen, and then back at their expectant faces. Sergeant MacTavish is watching you, predatory gleam in his eyes, and you gulp. Is it hot in here? It’s hot in here. “This is a highlight of hot zones in two different target cities. It’s pulled from local agencies’ databases, everything from license plate readers to residency records, IP hits and census information. After cross matching with all possible identities for your targets, family members, associated persons, patterns of behavior, I confidently believe I've identified and located your subjects, and they reside in these areas.”

"You know who they are?" The Captain asks, surprised, and you nod.

“How confident are ye?” Sergeant MacTavish asks, and you blink.

“Uh, like ninety percent” He looks… displeased. “Sir.” You tack on at the end, hoping to see some sort of approval for it, and when it doesn’t come, the ache inside you widens.

“I like those odds. Heard you were good, but this is something' else. Our intelligence has been working on ID'ing these guys for months with no luck.” Sergeant Garrick raises an eyebrow, exchanging a look with his Captain, and you brighten a little bit. Okay, that’s good. Right? You did good?

“Not sure ninety percent is good enough.” Sergeant MacTavish answers, and Laswell nods like she agrees. You wilt. Welp. And now your boss agrees. “Can ye show me the raw data?”

“I- sure, it’s…” you snap your mouth shut abruptly when he stands, and motions for you to follow him out the door.

“Let’s go then.”

You don’t make it back down to your console. Instead, he pushes you inside a maintenance closet, hand firm on your shoulder, guiding you down to your knees in the back, behind a shelf.

“Sergeant I don’t understand, I-“

“Ye tryin’ to send us out on a wild goose chase?”

“What?” You stare up at him, jaw slack. He’s terrifying, lit by damp, yellow light, arms crossed in front of his chest. There’s something in the way he looks at you, something that makes your thighs press together instinctively and at the same time, your heart starts palpitating. “Sir, I don’t-“ his hand darts forward, pinching your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, squishing them just a bit with a menacing smile.

"Are ye tryin' to send us on a wild goose chase? Yes or no, specialist."

"Nossir." It mushes together in your mouth, vowels trapped between your cheeks, and he nods.

"I didnae think ye were." He releases you, only to step closer, and you gulp when his hands find the waistband of your pants. "Take these to yer knees. Now."

"My... my pants?"

"Aye." When you don't move, he sighs. "Ye dinnae want me to have to ask a second time, do ye?" And no, you don't. Because you're sure whatever is coming will be far worse if you test his patience.

It's humiliating, dropping the pants to your knees, and the mortification gets even worse when his finger slips under the hem of your very boring, generic brand black cotton thong, pulling it with a yank so it jerks you forward and you almost trip.

"Sergeant... Sir, I'm sorry, I-"

"Why are ye sorry? Stay put." He turns away for a second, locating an old, fold up chair that he sets up where he was standing, settling into it with his knees spread. "Now, come."

"I'm sorry, I don't know why... why this is happening, I don't understand." You try to explain your confusion, but it all comes out as nonsense, and he nods, sympathetically, like he's sad for you, in a mocking, cruel way.

He taps his thigh.

"Hips here." He instructs, moving you like a doll when you start to bend down, pressing your belly against one leg, your breasts and collarbone against the other, ass in the air. "Bleedin' Christ. Ye sure are a sight." He squeezes you, fingers rough in the swell of your cheeks, before smoothing over the skin of your hip, pressing a firm palm to the small of your back. "Do ye know why we're doin' this?"

"No." You whisper, eyes closed. You don't know why you're doing any of this, why he's doing it. You don't know why he picked you, why he keeps you in his sights, why he has you bent over his knee. You don't know why you felt floaty and fucked up after the first time, why you dreamt about it, why you felt like you needed it. This is wrong. Isn't it? He swats your ass, barely a tap, and you flinch. "Sir. Sorry. Sir."

"Ye said you were ninety percent."

"I did."

"But I know, ye're better than ninety percent, aren't ye, my wee genius?" Your lungs are burning with the breath you're holding, and you let it out in a burst.

"Yes." You whisper to the floor.

"Why did ye lie?" The question is followed by a swing of air, and then a palm is stinging across your skin, pin prickles of pain making you whimper. "Count."

"One-e." You gasp. He doesn't pull his punches. He strikes fast. True. Twice in a row, the intensity making you choke on a whine. "Two, three. I didn't."

"Ye did." He rubs the point of impact, cooing at your ass like it needs comfort, before asking again. "Why did ye lie?"

"I wasn't, I-" Smack. This one comes in the exact same spot, a cruel choice, and you bite down on your lip, eyes scrunching shut. "Four."

"Why did ye lie?" You don't answer right away, and he swings, palm swatting down onto your other cheek, skin rippling beneath the hit. It steals your breath, and he prompts you again, with the same question, and you fail to answer, his response coming swiftly against you, smacking raw against burning skin. It's starting to shift now, the pain blurring the lines between uncomfortable and unbearable, while also taking on a different characteristic all together, one that has blood rushing beneath your skin, clit rubbing against the front of your pulled tight thong uncomfortably, not enough contact or pressure to do anything, but enough to drive you insane. You blink, trying to keep yourself together, trying to prevent floating away into space somewhere.

"Sir!" You pant, and he laughs, shadow of a hand swinging through the air, landing against you with a resounding crack.

"Tell me. Why did ye lie?"

"I-" You scramble for an answer. Why did you lie? Why didn't you just say the truth, the facts. What you knew, without a doubt. Why did you lie? "I was scared."

"Of what?"

"Of... of the room. Of making a mistake."

"But ye didnae make a mistake. Ye found a needle in a haystack." You nod. He's right, you did. "So the next time I ask ye how confident ye are, ye say one hundred. Ye tell everyone in that room, that ye did something other people can't, and ye own it."

"Y-yes sir." You whisper, and he runs a palm over the screaming skin of your ass.

"Good girl." He murmurs, your lower lip trembling. "Ye did good for me. So good."

"Thank you." You sniffle, and he shifts your body, lowering you to your knees in front of the chair, pants bunched under your bones like a little cushion.

"Sir?" You ask, confused as he pats your cheek, bending to press a long, hot kiss to your mouth, fingertips stroking across your pussy, overtop your underwear, before pulling back with a devilish smirk.

“Open.” He instructs, and your eyes widen. “Not goin’ tell ye again, sweet Cy. Open. Now.” You do, lips parting, mouth cranking wide, and he removes his fingers, hand drifting to his pants. Oh, fuck.

If your mouth wasn’t already hanging open, it would have dropped to the floor when he pulled his cock free. It’s long, long enough that it’s intimidating, and thick, probably as wide as your wrist, flushed red at the tip. There’s a bead of pre come dripping from the head, cozy crop of brown curls at the base.

“S-s-sir.” You squeak, and he smiles, cupping the back of your head as he taps your lips with it. "It won't- I can't, it's too-"

"I'll teach ye." He grunts, feeding you his cock slowly, tears falling down over your cheeks when he presses it into the back of your throat, as much as you can go, not even to the root yet. "That's it. Jus' like that, easy." He uses your mouth, your face, hand firm on the back of your head, stroking in and out between your lips until they go numb, faster and faster until you believe you might pass out, cock head jamming down past your tongue, blocking your airway with each thrust. You think you might black out. You could be blacked out right now, and not even know. You're not positive you're still in your body, the body with a sore, stinging ass, wet pussy, and occupied mouth, your Sergeant using you as he sees fit, determined to possess you like some sort of demon. You gag on him, throat seizing, and he pushes through it, bound and determined, your name a ragged whisper whistling through his teeth. "Fuck, swallow it. Dinnae lose a drop." He grits, and then plunges all the way, flooding you with sticky, sour salted earth that pours down your throat, hot come dripping down into your stomach.

You sit there, on your knees, after, stunned, unmoving. He shifts around you, pulling your pants up, fixing your hair, wiping your face. He's speaking to you too, murmuring soft words in your ear, lips touching your cheek, your temple, something about how good you are, how sweet, how he's not going to let anything happen to you, how you don't have to worry, because he's here now- and you slip into it like you're falling into your bed, closing your eyes and drifting away, melting into his side when he gathers you up, cradles you against his chest.

"C'mon sweet Cy. Let's get ye to bed."

[13curses]

౨ৎ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𝐃𝐎𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐆 & 𝐏𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✗ geto suguru (𝟏𝟖+)

MDNI ⸝⸝ nsfw ⸝ f!reader ⸝ creampie ⸝ unprotected sex ⸝ reader is kinda dozing off ‘n sleepy but it's all consensual (ø somno) ⸝ a bunch of ass touching ⸝ backshots ⸝ needy dom!suguru ⸝ if all’s well it ends in cuddles

synopsis ꒱ suguru gets home from a long-winded mission and yes, he wants to feel the warmth of your shared bed, but his priorities are the warmth of your insides. ᡣ𐭩

wc ꒱ 2.5k a/n ꒱ FIRST FIC ON THIS BLOG WOOOO wrote this w a headache, the impending doom, the cheezbot as my only follower && the insatiable need to fuck suguru raaaawww mama. enjoy xoxo

suguru’s gaze is scrutinizing your body now. his big shirt that you obtained as pajamas is creased at your stomach, raised enough to give a little insight to your skin, near your navel where your left hand is resting. the blanket is covering most of your lower area, but it's messy enough to reveal about a quarter of your thigh, along with the line of your panties clinging to your hips. those black panties are the ones with a dainty white ribbon on them, he knows despite your fingers covering the detail. 

you're mesmerising when you're in a slumber.

your skin looks heated even from afar, your hand has just moved from his favorite accessory on your underwear, and you’ve just taken a sharp breath leading you to a soft sigh and a quiet moan as you turn on your side, your upper leg now wholly exposed—

suguru needs a shower. he decides as he grunts in a scoffing manner, rubbing his temple with one, then both hands as he drags himself from the door borders to the bathroom connected to the bedroom.

within the water crashing his skin, he breathes out as his muscles relax. at least he tries to get them to, alas most of the tensity is in his dick. to put it rawly, when observing your snoozing state suguru's come the conclusion that it's either nudging you awake or relieving himself under the hot rain in the shower. 

his baby's just come to terms with falling asleep without him being home, how could he interrupt?

he turns his back at the stream and reaches for his shaft that's been hardening since he's inspected you. a low, broken sigh escapes his mouth at the awaited touch, so he puts his free hand on the wall to steady his position, beginning to gently stroke his partially soft cock. 

drops are rolling down his broad back and the glass of the cabin begins to fog up. all five of his finger pads are working to rile himself up, to display his prick in its fullness. yet, it's being awfully stingy, as if signalling that the water at its highest temperature is merely not enough to replace the tight warmth of yours.

“mmh— oh, fuck this.” suguru fusses, akin to a whine in disguise, dropping his hand from the tiles. plan b: he's gonna conk himself out and as soon as he wakes up, he's initiating morning sex. 

his dick drops from his rugged palm, limping helplessly, and as he shakes his thoughts off in regards to waking you up, he grabs his significant shower gel.

     afterwards, suguru stands at the foot of your bed, brushed raven hair resting on his shoulders, his towel neatly wrapped around his waist.

you're curled up on your side, waiting for him to be your assigned big spoon, unaware of your surroundings and his nasty thought process.

the gears in his brain are rusting — would you mind not looking so delicious in even a dreamy state? 

but suguru is just a man, and you're everything, so he takes two steps forward, kneels on the bed and scoots close to you. his symbolic gel soon reaches your nose, and you move your head a little. when he's leaning over your smaller frame, you shift your legs in awareness. he scoffs through his nostrils and places a cragged hand on your cheek, his mint breath fanning your face. he places a kiss on your temple, then two, then more.

your eyelashes flutter, your eye movement under your lids quickens. they open, droopy. suguru's affable, he doesn't say a thing just yet — his thumb is caressing your jawline.

“suguru..” you murmur, only audible within inches.

“hey, baby.”

you shuffle, wrinkling the sheets as you extend your legs to turn on your back. 

“mhh, how long have you been home?” you rasp, your lidded eyes meeting his. his hand travels down your neck to your thigh, nuzzling it. god, the inner part was heated.

“not long. just got out of the shower.”

he fixes the lifted part of the shirt you're wearing, but near immediately tucks it back up to stroke your side.

“'can tell.” you smile mildly at his scent. he chuckles in a deep tone as you yawn, “if you're g'na sleep naked, that's fine, but just c'me to bed. you must've worked hard.”

you graze his arm with invitation then turn a hundred and eighty degrees to your stomach, laying your cheek on your left forearm that's sinking onto the the feather-filled pillow which your right arm is hugging from under.

“'n fix my blanket.”

again, the material's barely covering half your body, but in a cross, not vertically. most of your thigh is exposed and the cotton is wrapping your round ass so nicely.

suguru leans away, licking his lips before biting the lower. he tilts his head to the side, now biting his tongue in uncertainty. his lips are sealed, pressed, then they open.

“i was thinking about pulling it off, actually.”

his confession leaves your eyebrows furrowed as you mewl an inarticulated 'what' before speaking.

“why? 'ts cold.”

“to reach you,” he leans back, massive hand creeping up your back, under the borrowed shirt, “and touch you.. a little.”

“sugu..”

his needy wish is slipping right out.

“can i fuck you to sleep, sweetheart?”

if you hadn't been awaked by his addictive scent and need to communicate, you'd think you are dreaming right now. your tired truth at the moment is that your man is crazy.

“i can sleep just fine, thank you.” you skimp, and suguru nearly moans in pain, but surpasses it.

“you know what i mean. may i fuck myself to sleep, then?”

god, he was needy and if you were to say no, his only escape route from his advancing boner was to relieve himself in the bathroom.

you attempt to think clearly, but you’re cut off by yet another yawn that transforms into a mewl.

“suguuu...”

he swallows, but doesn’t miss the action of you squirming just a little at his lustful words, lazily rotating your hips to keep composure. your lashes flicker as you open your lids to not crash asleep before you can give this more thought (or perhaps the first one amidst your sleepy complains).

he’s ready to remove his damp towel and lie either next to you and wait until morning or crawl back to the washroom like a loser, but you lift your head and look behind. the most awake he’s seen you since he’s arrived.

“you need me that much?” 

you sound generous.

he snorts, “i’m not just horny. i miss your tight little pussy a deranged amount.”

now that one sends bolts down your core and makes you moan under your sealed lips, squeezing your knees. still, you’re drowsy, so if your man wants to have your pussy in any position, you can simply lay still. you rest your head on the cloudy cushion and embrace it with both hands.

“then have me.”

the implication that you’re giving him access while getting what you want, which is to relax, immediately goes into his cock, which is so proud it’s demanding the towel be removed with a twitch. suguru draws a long, relieved breath, tugs at the fabric and eliminates it, instantly bowing down to touch you freely. 

he begins peppering your neck with kisses, wandering to your earlobe for a whisper.

“thank you, doll.” his hot breath sends low chills down your skin, right where his hands are travelling, massaging your bare back, the behind of the shirt rolled up to your shoulder blades. “good fuckin’ girl..”

he hugs your ribs with his muscular forearm, roaming your boobs with his persuasive palm. as he grazes your nipple, you shiver. his free hand goes down to your butt, digging into your flesh as his army of kisses continues on your nape — all in favour of prepping your wetness. he dodges the blanket with his knee before you both get tangled in the sea of sheets. the cold blows your skin; you wince.

“it's okay, sweetheart, tss, i'm g'na warm you up alright,” suguru soothes you, seasoning his preparation with words that never miss to rile you up, “have you been thinking of me? hoping i'd get home earlier to take care of you and your sweet, sweet spots?”

not a long time passes prior to your arousal swimmimg through your folds, which suguru feels up by digging under your cotton panties, coaxing your balmy juices. he recognises the sign to pull your underwear off, lifting your calves to roll the material down your ankles. he frames your thighs with his; he's careful not to burden you with his weight, strong thighs flexing to keep his composition.

he grabs an unused cushion to place under your stomach, and you assist by extending your arms on them, comfortably resting your flesh on said arms, face melting into the pillow. suguru takes his now hard cock in hand, stimulating the veiny length. a whimper escapes you as you feel the reddish tip touch your bottom, some precum leaving a tint.

“f’ck me..” you whine flatly, ‘cause your dreamy state is akin to a midwinter night’s wet dream.

“hah~” he breathes out, cock head already between your lower petals, “that’s not something to worry your pretty head about.”

suguru grips your left cheek as his fat tip is lead through your slit, and the deeper he's in, the more he’s towering towards you.

forthwith he's halfway inside you and upon your hot walls enticing him, his lids cover his eyes which roll back with a deep groan. he lets go of his manhood and directs that grip to your hip, digits deepening in your beloved fat. you lay still besides your tiny, sensitive squirms, however when suguru begins ploying inside your gummy walls, your lips depart and your eyebrows rise on their own.

cursewords are vocalized in his moans. his thrusts are advancing, so is the squelching of your wetness.

“yeahhh, jus' like that, god.” he remarks, spine straightening; his grasp on your buttocks being a steady foundation.

his knees begin to crumple up the mattress cover with each move, and complimenting him, you cry into the headrest. suguru gives your ass a tame slap before kneading the round flesh, and he's finally all in, pounding into you like he's making up for weeks, but it isn't rough.

your elbows are grazing your hip bone and your crotch is firing up the forearms you rest upon with sweat, but suguru's pelvis knocking the wind out of your bouncy ass makes up for the scalding feeling.

“ruru~!”

you arch your backbone, semi-accidentally rooting him deeper into you, moaning with lush. the concave of a situation allows suguru to release his hold, throwing his head back mindlessly, flexing the sculpted details of his neck. extending his fingers on your back, you feel committed to relax all of your parts but your lower back which you're hilling.

it hits so deep, deep, deep in this sluggish, needy position, you take a mental note to try it again, rough and bouncy, when you're not dozing off.

“you're godsent.” he murmurs, the flirt finished with a needful hiccup. simultaneously, he opens his eyes as they roll back into their natural location.

gaze fixated on his muse, the trajectory of his cock twitches; it's the biggest fan of your pussy and as if it had gotten flustered, it misses your g-spot for a few thrusts, then strikes it stronger than lightning. a faint state of dizziness rushes over you at the act, spongy walls clenching around their company. bit of saliva drips out of your repeatedly agape mouth.

“s'good— so deep!” you sniffle, and your following tired truth is, “missed you.”

endearment fills suguru, it replaces the desire in his smile with delight.

“missed you more, babydoll.”

“huff~ in me, in me...” dozy mumbles leave your throat and you almost start searching for his gaze to seal the promise, but your lover shushes you.

“ssh, all's g'na go in you, 'm giving you everything you want, yeah baby? you close?” 

taunting, his tip bumps your cervix and you have no different answer but—

“ngh! yes!! yes! mhh..!”

your toes curl, close to numbing your feet, and the springs of the bed grate with a high noise because suguru's digits are embracing your cheeks again and he's doubled his pace. sloshes of your arousal are leaving flecks on the white sheet, and whenever he slides out of you, his cock is glossier than during the last couple of plunges.

you tug your arms from under yourself, hugging the head pillow in a hurry, nails clawing. you repeatedly whine the first two syllables of his name, your lower area is cramping up.

defeated by his thighs trapping yours, you can't flow apart. suguru groans, moans, then whines your name through gritted teeth. his tense balls are adding friction to your clit with every swing; as a bonus, he attends your puffy slit with his thumb to rub it with skill.

you would not have expected to reach your climaxes in sync, it's the mere serendipity of this new found depth. heat rushes throughout your boyfriend whilst his dynamic pounces turn slouchy, his marbles nearly burst at the veins from the urge to overflow your hole.

his pants quicken. he chokes on his vowels, and at last, suguru's shaking. rutting into you like a mad dog, his semen arrives in strings, forming into an eruption, just like the orgasm you own with strained muscles, squeezing your eyes shut.

you huff and puff into the pillow, restraining your breathing, “sugu—! sugu–hu~..”

teeth sinking into your lip, threatening a bleed out, you back into suguru helplessly, milking him dry as you cover him with your hot nectar. releasing into you, what’s left of his thrusts is not far from brushing you with his crotch, and it merely turns into grinding. afterwaves of your orgasm leave you jerking firmly. sensitive hums are heard from your trembling mouth.

suguru’s broad chest is heaving, and fixing his blurry vision with a few blinks he opposes to collapsing atop of you. he forces his post-orgasm energy to withdraw his softening cock, watching as threads of his seed stick to your damp cunt. the amount achieves some of the white to ooze out.

“thank you, baby,” he exhales, hoarse, “shit. you’re the best. sweet baby…” he pats your bottom curves. 

intending to start your sentence with ‘if you are feeling so thankful today, you should come…’, you’re only able to whimper the point, “cuddle.”

a loveful snicker is what suguru replies with as he eliminates the cushion under your belly.

finally climbing into bed, he assists you with turning on your side so you can form into his littlest spoon, cuddling up to him as he hugs you from behind, planting lazy kisses on your nape — this time, with the intention to sleep.

your legs are not straddled by his anymore, your clammy skin is breathing, and you keep the bundle of cum at your core content.

it’s not so cold anymore.

[krewekreep]

2.7K Words. tags: Committed Relationship AU, Date Night/Car Sex AU, (Ownership kink??? I don’t know wtf I’m talking about), Your man asks if he can get you tatted on him.

“Can I get your name tattooed?” You almost spit your drink out at the question. You turn to your boyfriend absolutely stunned. “A tattoo? O-Of what?” You couldn’t believe how casual he was as if he wasn’t essentially asking to be imprinted. He shrugged his shoulders saying, “I don’t know maybe your name? Maybe a symbol or honestly whatever you want to see on me.” You stared analytically at him. Was this his attempt at a prank or your sincere realization your man was crazy. “Are you serious? Where would you get it? What if people see it and ask about it? Oh my- boy youre wildin’ right now.” You had to laugh. This was the most outrageous he could’ve ever been but nothing really about his expression changed. If anything he seemed a bit disappointed at your reaction. You saw the slight fall of his eyes, oh no he’s deadass.

You sat back sincerely considering your man with your name on his body. What seemed the most appealing? His face? Absolutely not…his neck? Maybe but kinda ghetto. As if fixating on the perfect sketch you cleared several versions of it through your head: arms, back, legs, hands. You thought of the big words branded across men like Tupac or Cholos, and while absolutely hot…it didn’t suit him. You thought of how sexy tattoos were ones that peeked out—those conversations starters when you just can’t get the image of it without a full closer inspection. You thought of his ribs, his collar bone, his wrists…what seemed an awkward silence for him was a deep meditation that led you to consider it now with more excitement than consolation.

“Okay,” you returned to him with your considerations. “I thought about tattoos of all kinds all over you…it’s pretty hot.” He rolled his eyes at you. “No-no,” you went for his thigh grabbing it in reassurance. “I’m so serious right now.” It was hard in your very unserious, light hearted relationship to maintain a kind of sincerity that wouldn’t send the both of you laughing your heads off. You understood he really liked the idea of it and you didn’t mean to have shut him down. He heard you. Trying his best to not openly forgive you because his pout earned him a pleading and yearning partner. He liked when you made up to him. “Y/N,” his face fell. “It really hurt me.” A cold wind caught him and his face sunk so deep you thought he would wither away. “Baby, I’m serious. You would look so good but I had to think on what suited you.” His ears perked up a bit, raising a quizzical brow towards you but still sulking. You sat up in the car seat leaning over to grab his face and kiss him all over. Before whispering which spots had riled you up the most you kissed him deeply running a finger across his ear which sent a shiver through him.

“So I thought about the obvious: your face, your arms, your hands. I thought I liked something being on your ribs or your wrists. I still do BUT I decided top two goes to the collar bone or your fingers.” He had to scoff to himself. Of course you chose the most sensitive, possibly painful areas. You didn’t have tattoos yourself, not against them, but not up for the possible pain at all. He, on the other hand, was very tatted including a full sleeve. It was his thing so to speak so the idea of getting your name tatted seemed less and less crazy. “Hmmm, you like those places?” He watched your eyes linger on his neck and clavicle wishing to decorate him in hickies to show your earnestness. “Mmhmm.” You touched along his neck and collarbones earning a muffled groan. He twitched under your tickling fingers watching you dazed.

You unlocked your seat belt and leaned over grabbing him by the hair and pulling him into a sloppy, eager kiss. “You sure?” He always is the one to double, triple, quadruple check. “Yes baby,” you pull away to look him in the eyes. “I just immediately thought of those huge ass ones you see people get on social media.” You scoffed a bit thinking of images of blazing red skin with huge cursive names. You had no issue if it were family members or even friends, but lovers? Seemed a bit too close to branding and ownership, and you never knew of a lasting relationship with that going on.

Unbeknownst to you your bae’s absolute acceptance of being yours. He heard once of someone in the media proving his love to his new girl by tatting his dick…. He thought long and hard about it…honestly into it. And had you thrown that out there, even if a pure joke—He’d win by trolling you with your name inked large across his length. He’d fuck you into the mattress, dick hitting your cervix unknown to you until pillow talk time. How’d he’d thank both Y/Ns for the fabulous time tonight. How he knew you’d snap up and throw the blankets away quizzically investigating his cock. How he loved the idea of not telling you at all…seeing how long it took before you’d scream in astonishment lamenting his idiotic love struck ways. But he’ll settle for now.

He liked the idea of his fingers…closest thing he had comparable to his dick given their own girth and length. How two fingers were genuinely too much for you until you grew fully accustomed to his cock. How when he tried to enter a third once you winced looking back at him like the devil. “Don’t piss me off,” you spat closing your eyes with a lifted warning brow. “You know you be trying to do too much.” He was sympathetic but horny. And had the worst kind of fantasies pinning you in all sorts of positions, crumbling you up into a sex ball. You were so beautiful all the time. Now sitting in his car at the top of a parking garage, after an amazing night out where you both seemed to fall in love all over again. He really felt compelled to ask, damn near blurting the question out. “Would you get a tattoo of my name?” You didn’t have to think long this time. “Nope. Not your name.” His face fell, he couldn’t even hide it. You knew what you were doing leaning over to reach your hand in between his legs, cupping his balls and dick easily. “I’d get a symbol for you. Or like an animal. You know I like subtle things.” You rub his tip through his pants almost luring a whimper from him. He swallowed hard. “Tell me more.” “What? I don’t know there’s really so many things I associate with you or us…I weirdly want it to be perfect. I want it to mean I love you, I trust you, and thank you all at once. Not my fault I’m sentimental.” You tease yourself and him laughing softly. “I’m just…actually happy as fuck to know you’d consider it. You don’t have to, baby girl.” “Aht aht,” you tisk. “Already in motion, you know I was thinking about finally getting one too? So I’ll really think about it and I want your help okay??”

How could you look at him so innocently when your hands were making it hard to keep his eyes open. How could you so lovingly declare all this as he adjusts his waist to more firmly plant himself in your palm. How you squeeze him ever so slightly eliciting a full blown moan. You wanted him bad. The night out, the drinks, the conversation over ice cream, now sitting with your love as the night sky passed on. It was perfect. You leaned up in the seat on your knees, reaching over him to crank his seat back. It went down smoothly and he set both arms behind his head. Ready for you to handle him however you pleased.

You leapt over onto him sitting flush on his extremely hard, bulging length. You cooed at the sensation of pressure against your clit slowly grinding against him. He didn’t wanna control you this time but it was hard to not go to grab at you, to which you swatted his reaching hungry arms away. “Uh uh,” was all you had to say. You needed him inside you now. You lifted your hips, giving you space to undo and unzip his pants. You learned with him he doesn’t put on underwear all the time. And considering how his outfit squeezed him all over perfectly—You didn’t want your favorite guy all smothered and claustrophobic. He needed to breathe didn’t he?? His dick agreed hungrily leaping out his pants thwacking against his belly. You spit in your hand taking him in it with a sloppy dribble of saliva falling to his tip. He shivered throwing his head back. You pumped him swirling your thumb over his blazing leaking tip. He was nothing more than a mumbling, groaning, praising mess. “Fuck, you know what you doing, Y/N.” He can’t help himself. He knows you like to treat him like this, like your little bitch.

His chest was lifting and lowering so erratically. His abs tensing and sweat brimming all over his skin. He wanted to get inside you, fuck your hands. “Mmm, baby please.” He cooes. “Sit on me baby, I need to feel that.” You obeyed swiftly giving him a few more hard pumps making his head lift as his mouth was agape breathlessly. “I got you. You know I do.” You lifted up, your ass facing the windshield. You pulled your panties to the side with one hand, still keeping the other on his waiting cock. He watched you in awe, how fierce you were when you wanted him. How he loved how loud you were and couldn’t wait to hear his name ring his ears as your shameless calls for him filled the car.

You lifted his dick vertical to your pussy, squatting down meeting his hot wet tip to your soaking loving core. When he entered it felt like heaven. What little stress you had already gone, so it was nothing for you to bounce down on him roughly. Both of you yelping at the sensation of his cock hitting your cervix. “Hey, be gentle. Don’t hurt yourself.” He said cautiously. He didn’t care about himself but you? No, don’t hurt yourself or even discomfort yourself just to feel him.

He took extreme pride in treating you like a princess even declining trying degradation. You, a bit too persistant at a point causing him to snap: “You can like what you like but I’m not degrading you. That’s my last word about it. Find someone else if it’s that big of a deal.” He was frustrated and regretted the last sentence the minute he finished. How he couldn’t face you cause he knew tears had fallen. How you gasped at his rejection and meanness, storming out of his apartment. How the minute the door slammed he rushed to his phone calling you profusely. How he showed up to your place with tears of his own. How he kinda maybe went a little too crazy banging on your door like a madman demanding to talk to you. When then as you opened the door warning of a police call for disturbance he blew past you into your living room. How he kinda scream talked his way through admitting he was so in love with you, so literally stuck on you he couldn’t imagine himself talking down on you. It just wasn’t him.

How you just wanted him to calm down and that you understood. You really did. Reaching towards your bellowing boyfriend cooing him to cry it out in your bosom. How he ended up more upset than you just because he felt awful even snapping at you like that. How you rolled your eyes at yourself thinking while he might be domineering he was a big ole baby. How you told him you accepted his apology, leaning him away from you and hitting your knees to suck him off. How he broke through the tears saying he didn’t even deserve this but you shut him up with a swirl of your tongue.

How now he had no choice but to give you the entire fucking world. How you unlocked a kink of being dominated for him. Sitting back with his head resting up, watching you use him to your delight. How his cock twitched inside you and his hips lifted in mindless splendor. The car nothing but an enclosed cacophony of praise, I love you’s, and the sloppy slick of your fluids as they kept you two sticky and connected. The weight of your ass on his pelvis as his hands guided you up and down. How your head was thrown back like an animal, calling out to him how only his cock could make you feel this way. How he demanded you say more, more about him and his dick and how useful he was to you.

“Ah, Ah, Ah,” you couldn’t even think straight. Your mind overwhelmed with the orgasm you actually didn’t want to reach yet. Truly how sweet his cock met the ridges of your pillowy heat. You really didn’t want to stop but when you gazed at him he was as gone as you. His eyes closed tight, so tight you almost told him relax. His arms extended, flexing every active vein as he held your ass while you began growing even wetter around him. “Ain’t no way,” his hips stall slightly. “You’re so fucking wet, it doesn’t even feel like I’m in you. Ah, you so fucking good to me baby girl.” You knew by his fighting vocals he was about to cum. His previous warning to take it easy was nothing but noise as you began throwing your pussy down against him. You wanted to cum how you wanted to cum. “Baby, no, I—“ a pathetic accepting mess he was. They better not complain in the morning, he thought. And let you bounce on him mercilessly slapping against him loudly with a bit of a sting. You wanted to feel it in your throat and you did. That rare (less rare with him now your partner) special confusing but absolutely mind numbing pleasure. You seized around him, chocking his cock as you came hard. Your entire body shook now exhausted as you could only just sit on him letting him finish. You bounced as his dick drove in you sloppier and sloppier. “Oh fuck,” his own body now quaking, ropes of semen making your belly warm as your pussy hugged him wanting all he had.

His body went limp and so did yours. You fell on his chest with little concern, nuzzling into his neck peppering him with kisses. “I told you…I told you to not to go so hard…” he scolded wiping his dripping face with his arm. “Mmhmm,” was your only response soon falling asleep with him still inside you. You bundled up so innocently considering the mad woman you had just been. Pleased, full, and ready to cuddle him proper back home.

He kisses you on the forehead, still catching his breath although it is increasingly becoming balanced. You were already about to knock out. “Baby?” He cooed. “Let me put you in the back seat okay? Just rest until we get home, okay?” How now you were his baby princess again. Whatever you wanted, whatever you needed you got. How you mumbled nothing coherent barely able to lift yourself off of him. A bit awkward since you literally couldn’t move but once he laid you down, making sure your legs were comfortable, he kissed you passionately. You couldn’t really kiss back but you did pucker your lips with what little strength you had. He smirked to himself fixing his thankful dick back in his pants and getting in the drivers seat. Keys in the ignition, your couples playlist auxed on low, and a big dumb smile on your lover’s face. “How could I ever disrespect you goofy?” The most he’d ever insult you laughing as he pulls out the parking garage heading on home.

Who: GOJO, CHOSO, Zoro, Nanami, EREN, BAKUGO, Human INUYASHA, Ichigo + whoever else is this love dumb.

[sixosix]

5k event request :P

Kazuha, light stick, and fluff please

a/n hi anon! when i saw light stick, i instantly interpreted it as those kpop light sticks,, im not sure if u meant something else like those glow sticks, so i am hoping this was what u meant HAHA

wc 700, idol!kazuha/fan!reader, im sure u guys have heard of the 6REEZE group somewhere, meet-cute; disclaimer i only know how auction works from my classmates roleplaying them so ignore accuracies for fic’s sake. bless.

5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST

Kazuha, to be frank, felt a little embarrassed.

His features stood out too much, his friends told him. To go out and enjoy the fresh air of the day, he had to not enjoy the fresh air with a face mask, conceal his red streak of hair by clipping it back and burying it under a cap, and wear green-tinted sunglasses (also to disguise the red of his eyes) that he was struggling to get used to.

In his defense, His friends weren’t any better. Aether’s braid could be recognized with only that, Venti’s glowing braids weren’t any better, Heizou’s shade of hair and green eyes would stand out—if not his unique voice, and everyone knew Xiao even if he were to shave all his hair off. Scaramouche could be salvageable, but one word from his mouth and his fans would fall to their knees—it could be his voice, but it would be the attitude.

Kazuha felt a little too hot with his disguise, but he wanted this, so he would go through with it. He tugged his mask under his nose, relaxing at the scent of the open air. The mall had an open area with trees all over; the leaves fell to the ground, and the wind brushed past. Kazuha couldn’t feel it, having been stuffed under layers, but he was satisfied.

Although it felt embarrassing to be clothed in this disguise, he couldn’t go outside this freely before. He was going to make the most of it.

And then he passed by a stall that had him doing a double take. Kazuha took a few steps back, lighting up with recognition. He couldn’t be mistaken, not with that familiar symbol of Anemo. The stall displayed a light stick of their group, released only a few days ago.

His friends would have a blast if he came back with it, most likely, Kazuha mused. Maybe he could bring it back as a gift.

A hand shot out from the side, blocking his view of the light stick. Kazuha blinked, a little surprised. He followed the arm's stretch and came face-to-face with an angry stranger.

“Hey, you!” you said. Kazuha felt like he needed to stand straighter at the tone. “I had my eye on this one first, ‘kay? Whatever number you have in mind—keep it. I finally get my hands on one of these; I’m not letting it go!”

“Oh, this was an auction?” he asked curiously. The stall didn’t seem to be being run by anyone at the moment, and no one else was there.

“Well, no,” you sniffed, “but I would win. I already told the seller I called dibs on this one—wait until she gets back.”

Charmed, Kazuha smiled. “Two thousand.”

“Three.”

“Three-thousand, five hundred?”

“Five-thousand, three hundred.”

Kazuha had to wonder: “How much do these usually cost?”

“Five thousand, if you’re lucky. I’ll make it ten thousand, easy. Are you still not backing down?”

Kazuha laughed under his breath. Were you serious? Were you actually willing to drop that much for this? “Alright, I cede. I apologize for attempting to defeat you.”

You grinned, eyes sparkling quite literally as your gaze slid back to the lightstick. You were very pretty. “Yeah, I thought so.” You eyed him curiously; Kazuha suddenly felt a little shy. “Are you a fan as well?”

Kazuha nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from your genuine smile for a few moments. His eyes drifted down to your shirt, which had the same Vision of the lightstick—but there was something else. “You could say that.”

Your shirt had maple leaves swirling around the logo, and Kazuha could recognize it all too well because he was asked to sit down and draw it for their merchandise—something personal for each member. Did Kazuha have the right to suspect what it meant that you were wearing his?

Emboldened, Kazuha gestured at the lightstick. “As a fellow enthusiast, may I extend my offer to cover this purchase?”

You blinked and stuttered. “W-What— You don’t have to! I literally stole it from you!”

“So you confess that you pried it off of me?” Kazuha teased.

“That’s not—Listen—” You stared at him, then got flustered. “Hold on, are you hitting on me?”

“Yes.” He took off his sunglasses and tugged down his mask, flashing a sweet smile that he knew was utterly unfair. Your face bluescreened out of pure shock. Without the mask muffling his voice, it was clear as day. “So, will you let me?”

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Wishes fulfilled [S. R.] birthday wishes pt. 2

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 7.7k

summary: After an unfortunate event, Spencer questions what he really feels about his childhood best friend.

contains: best friends to lovers, a little angst at the beginning, conflict over feelings, mostly fluff

A/N: A anon suggested there be a second part for birthday wishes and I thought, why not? You can read it as a standalone or as a continuation, tell me what you thought! this makes me very happy:)

The months passed and very soon the Christmas season arrived. There were some allusive decorations courtesy of García and she had even placed a small tree in the meeting room with symbolic gifts under it, one for each member of the team that they could open after Christmas Eve. It was a month full of warmth, love and delicious hot chocolate, but criminals in the United States didn't seem to adhere to that rule so the BAU continued with business as usual.

“She was Abigail Jones,” Garcia began, projecting an image on the conference room screen of a woman who must have been in her thirties. “She was found dead yesterday in her apartment in Las Vegas, in the area of Downtown, with multiple signs of violence, sexual abuse, and a completely disfigured face…” when she said this, she turned away from looking at the photo, with good reason, as it made even the strongest members feel nauseous.

There were two other victims, the same mobile phone and in scattered areas of the city. They were single women, who lived alone and although they didn’t seem to share traits in terms of their socioeconomic level, they were extremely similar physically and that is why Spencer's stomach turned when he realized how much they looked like you. A call to Hotch's phone interrupted the presentation and they all waited for the exchange to end, until after exchanging a few sentences the man spoke.

“It was the police chief. There is a new victim, they just found her in the Summerlin area, in an apartment complex on Pennwood Avenue.”

“At Pennwood?” Spencer asked, turning completely pale as she heard the area where the attack had taken place “Who is she?”

“They haven’t yet identified the body, but she has the same characteristics as the other women”

Everyone was shocked to see the doctor get up from the table and leave the room without giving any explanation, apparently to make a call from his phone. Aaron set the departure time of the jet and after that some members approached the young agent to try to find out what was happening. He seemed very worried, with the device pressed firmly against his ear and his gaze lost.

“What's wrong, Reid?”

“I'm calling Y/N,” he explained, feeling his breathing begin to quicken. “She lives in those apartments.”

The rest of the team seemed to understand, then, the concern that had overcome the man due to the information they had just received. They were also profilers and even with the little that they knew you, they knew that you fit perfectly into victimology, so it wasn’t difficult for them to connect both dots to realize what Spencer's fear was.

The first call had no answer, other than the answering machine, so he called again, again and again until panic took him in its clutches like prey.

“Dude, calm down.”

"She doesn’t answer!" Spencer practically sobbed, feeling like everything around him was spinning and a second later collapsing into Morgan's arms.

"What's going on?"

“Reid fears that the woman they just found is Y/N,” JJ explained to her boss. By this point the entire team was already gathered around the man, sharing the worry that was tormenting him and thinking about the possibilities of everything. The trip to Vegas was longer than usual trips, which didn't help in the least.

Spencer felt a chill when he tried to dial your number again and, just like before, he only heard your pre-recorded voice.

“Okay, listen,” Hotch said firmly, as he approached Spencer and grabbed his shoulders to get his attention. “I'm going to ask the officer to call me as soon as they identify the body, until then I need you to calm down. Do you know if Y/N has any particular signs with which they can tell us now if it is her?”

“Huh, she…” he stammered, struggling to put two coherent thoughts together to answer, “she has a… a mole on her belly, I think. It’s small and red.”

Under other circumstances the team would have mocked him, asking him how he had that knowledge or something along those lines, however, the situation was too delicate to allow for jokes.

“Okay, get your things so we can leave as soon as possible. And again, calm down,” Hotch said firmly, pointing at the agent. “It's not her, Reid. I know it"

Spencer tried to do what his boss had asked, but he kept dialing his cell phone every two minutes hoping to hear a response. He tried to calm down by telling himself that the chances of that body being yours were very low and trying to find in his mind some statistics that would corroborate this, but fear barely allowed him to understand the situation enough to know any information at that moment.

Obviously he was the first to arrive at the jet and he didn't stop trying to communicate with you, until he saw Aaron walk through the hallway with an expression he couldn't decipher.

"She…"

“No,” the man responded immediately. “The victim's name is Olivia Anderson. She’s not Y/N”

Hearing this he let out a breath of air and took a couple of steps until he reached the opposite one, to wrap him in a hug of complete relief. Hotch responded with warmth and a murmur of 'I told you so', which was interrupted by the arrival of the rest of the team.

Even though you still weren't answering the calls, Spencer was able to feel calmer during the flight, enough to analyze various aspects of the case that allowed him to offer valuable contributions for the future. When delegating the commissions, the unit chief was condescending to him and asked him to go to the last crime scene, so that with some luck you could meet and he could make sure that you were okay.

When they arrived in Nevada, the snow greeted them and Spencer adjusted his scarf tighter as he got into the car that Morgan would drive to the crime scene. The walk wasn't long and once there Derek motioned to his partner when the officer arrived to talk to both of them, as if he were permitting him to enter the building instead of staying. Spencer didn't hesitate to practically run inside to look for your apartment, and when he finally found the door with the number 17 he knocked frantically, but when he didn't receive a response he only became more frustrated.

Where the hell were you supposed to be?

He felt a vibration in his right pocket and almost dropped the device from his hand when he answered the call, without even looking at the identifier.

"Hello?"

“Reid, come back here,” Morgan spoke. “Y/N is with me.”

The agent didn't have to say it twice for Spencer to go down the stairs with the same speed he went up them, almost tripping on the way, and when he came out he looked for you in every direction. The snow and the tide of law enforcement personnel blocked the view a bit, but when his eyes finally met yours, you smiled and waved your hand to get his attention. Spencer ran, again, towards you, until he crashed into you in a hug. You were smaller than him and you fit perfectly against his body.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked in an angry voice, separating himself from you so he could look at you, but without letting go of your waist “I called you at least thirty times and you didn't answer, do you have any idea how worried I was?”

“I, huh… I left my phone at home and I'm just getting back from work, I had no idea what happened. Morgan already told me that there was a homicide.”

“Did you know her?”

“She's my neighbor,” you muttered sadly, looking toward the entrance of the building. “Oh, Crash, this is so horrible. She was… she was very good and kind to everyone. She didn't deserve this."

“I want you to go in there, pack some changes of clothes, and come back here, okay?”

"Why?"

“You will stay with me in the hotel until the case is over,” he ruled, with a tone that gave no room for opposition. “I need to work right now, but while you do what I asked of you.”

“But… I can't just leave my apartment like that, and what about my job?”

“I will talk to your boss and if he refuses, I will charge him with obstruction of justice or I will assign you an escort if necessary, but you are not going anywhere alone.”

You knew perfectly well that, although Spencer was a valuable member of the unit, he didn't have the power to do that, but because of the confidence in his voice you doubted for a second if he would be able to ask someone higher up in the bureau's hierarchy for that favor. You had rarely heard him speak like that, with a mixture of anger and concern, and he had never ordered you to do anything in your life. But he was doing it now, he was giving you specific instructions that wouldn't take no for an answer.

“Reid, we need you here” you heard Derek say from the other side.

"What's going on? Why do I have to leave here?”

“I'll explain everything to you later, okay? For now you go and get your things to call a taxi” he said, a little less agitated than he had spoken at first. Then he, in an unexpected act, gently kissed your forehead “Wrap yourself up, it's freezing out here.”

Although you had more questions, you knew that he was working and that you couldn't interrupt him just because, so you went to your apartment and grabbed a small suitcase to start packing clothes. Your phone was, as you expected, on the kitchen counter and you checked that he wasn't exaggerating with the number of calls he made to you.

When you left there was already a taxi waiting for you, so he just gave you the address of the hotel where the team was staying so you could get there. It was a picturesque place with lots of cheerful Christmas decorations, with a friendly guy as the receptionist. He already seemed to be aware of the agreement and after you checked in, he guided you to the room, where your friend would also be staying.

You didn't understand why it was necessary to keep you there and you hoped that he would call you at some point to clarify the situation, but he didn't. Since you had brought your laptop with you, you took the opportunity to continue working and it wasn't until a couple of hours later, you didn't even know how many, that someone knocked on the door. You didn't open it until you asked who it was and recognized your friend's voice, seeing him standing with his briefcase slung over his shoulder and a tired smile.

“Hello,” you sighed in relief, greeting him with a hug and then pulling him inside. You let him put down his belongings and sit on the bed, while you stood in front of him. “Do you want to explain to me what is happening and why I am here?”

“There is a murderer on the loose”

“That seems obvious.”

“There is a murderer on the loose who killed your neighbor, with characteristics surprisingly similar to yours, both physical and personal” he added and it took you a moment of silence to understand where the matter was going “I just didn't want you to be near there because he could come back"

“Do you think I'm in danger?”

“I don't know, but you're the kind of woman the unsub likes. I wasn't going to risk you”

You nodded your head softly, from your position of crossed arms.

“And what does your boss think about this?”

“He didn't know,” he confessed to you and you opened your eyes widely. “But I told him on the way here and he said to just try to stay out of trouble or Strauss would call him out on it. It's just that I... panicked, okay? When the police found Olivia's body they had not identified it and… I was afraid that it was you”

Suddenly all the calls and his face contorting into a grimace of relief when he saw you made sense to you, because at this point you hadn't even realized how much you and Liv shared. But Spencer had done it, that was his job after all.

“But I'm fine,” you said reassuringly, as you knelt in the space between his legs and met his gaze. “I’m safe, okay?”

“Did you see anything suspicious in the last few days? Anything that can help?”

“I don't think so, I spend all day at work” you lamented “I'm sorry.”

“Don't worry,” he reassured you, giving you a tired smile.

You knew your friend and you knew beforehand what stress did to his body, like those horrible migraines he had started to get or the dark circles under his eyes, and now his body language was screaming at you that something was still bothering him.

“You should sleep,” you suggested, reaching out with one of your hands to place it on his cheek. Spencer didn't complain, instead he closed his eyes and turned his head slightly so he could rub his skin against your outstretched palm.

It took you by surprise when, just a second later, he leaned down to grab your waist and help you get up from the floor. You were about to ask what he was doing when he maneuvered himself again until you were sitting on his lap, your legs dangling next to his and his arm wrapped tightly around your lower back.

“So we're cozy now, huh?” you scoffed, trying to mask with a smile the blush that had already spread across your face at the position the man had placed you in.

Spencer was a great lover of physical contact, contrary to what many might think, although this depended a lot on the person he was with. It had taken you months of effort to get a handshake and only as the years went by did, he begin to enjoy hugs with you. But after so much time you had gotten used to it and that's why the man became all clingy with you, after all it wasn't very common for you to see each other, which didn't bother you at all.

However, him holding you like that felt completely different than usual. You had only felt those butterflies in your stomach when, on his birthday, you had been so drunk and tired that you ended up sharing a bed. You had to admit that you liked him more than you should, waking up sheltered by his body, between a tangle of limbs and feeling the rise and fall of his calm breathing; and when the thought of having more nights like this crossed your mind you suppressed it immediately, feeling tremendously guilty about it.

But this wasn’t a product of alcohol or fatigue, but rather Spencer had done this of his own free will. His hair curled at the tips and you took the opportunity to gently brush some pieces off his forehead, while he watched you in complete silence.

“I don't know what I would do if something ever happened to you.”

His confession was barely a whisper that tickled your cheek, said with such sincerity that he took you by surprise. You couldn't measure the fear that had brewed in your best friend's chest that morning and that's why you couldn't understand his need to have you physically close, as he wanted to make sure you were there with him and not brutally murdered on a bed in the morgue.

A sigh of tenderness left you and you immediately pulled him close to you to hug him, feeling your hip fitting into the curve of his stomach and his face close to your neck, like he always did.

“Is that why you are like this? Baby, you don't have to worry about me. I already told you I'm fine."

“I know,” he murmured. “But I can't help it.”

“Well, you'll have to try it.”

“How do you want me to try something like that?” he exclaimed, separating from you so he could look into your eyes, and keeping the minimum distance between you two “I can't. I will always worry about you, you are my…” the words were cut off, because he didn't think there was a word that encapsulated well enough what you meant to him, but also because he was momentarily distracted by your lips; why was he getting distracted by them?

“Best friend in the whole world and sole owner of your heart?”

“Something like that,” he responded, laughing for the first time that night, and as he did so his face only moved closer to yours. He was strangely nervous about your presence and didn't know why, so he didn't help much when you leaned against his body so he could hold you better. Spencer just hoped your ear couldn't pick up the increase in his heartbeat.

“We should be able to stay like this forever,” you muttered absently, and although you didn't mean to be serious the words hit the man worse than they should.

For a moment he contemplated the possibility of actually staying with you forever and then he realized it wasn't an idea he disliked. From an early age every time Spencer thought about his future you were in it, but he hadn't thought about the role he wanted you to play. You had been friends for so long that he didn't believe there was anything more to your relationship, however, he was very wrong.

Was holding you like that awakening something in him that he didn't think was possible? Or was it the fear of losing you that made him realize that he would rather die than spend a life without you? No book or statistical study gave him an answer to what he was feeling and, to be honest, that terrified him.

He knew that you had tried to have a relationship with several men throughout your life, but none of them had managed to progress beyond a few months, due to one reason or another. However, Spencer wondered how long it would take for you to finally find love and if he could stand to see someone become your priority. It's not that he was jealous or possessive, just that he had been used to being someone important in your life for too long to accept the change from one moment to the next. He would always be happy if you were happy, but it made him sick to think that you would end up marrying someone completely unworthy of your affection and admiration; someone who didn't deserve the best woman of all. And as if it were an epiphany, Spencer realized that he wanted to be that man.

He needed it. 

“We have to sleep,” he murmured, gently patting your back, because he was afraid that if you stayed like this any longer his mind would travel to some other inappropriate ideas. “Sleep on the bed, I'll sleep on the floor.”

“The bed is big enough”

“It doesn't matter, you use it,” he murmured. You had already stood up and were playing absentmindedly with the long sleeve of your blouse, without stopping to look at him.

"But…"

“I don't want to have this discussion today, okay?” the man had already taken some pillows and was spreading a sheet next to the bed. You, resigned, climbed up to the mattress and remained to kneel on it, watching your friend arrange his place.

“How many days will you stay here?”

"We don’t know yet. With some luck it will only be until tomorrow."

“You should visit your mom,” you murmured. Among so many emotions, Spencer had barely had time to think about Diana, at least until now that you had mentioned her, and he felt a pang of guilt. “It's almost Christmas, it would be a nice gift.”

“I think you're right,” he smiled. Things were ready and although he enjoyed talking to you now he felt extremely tired, so he just wanted to go to sleep. “Rest, okay? We’ll talk tomorrow"

“Good night,” you replied, smiling tenderly at him. An unexpected urge to lean in and steal a kiss grew in Spencer, which he tried to shake off of himself.

Without saying anything else he walked to turn off the light and then came back to lie down on the blanket, trying to sleep. When he was about to get it, he felt your arm fall over the side of the bed and your hand groping for any part of his body you could hold. In the end it was his hand that held yours and he couldn't see your blushing cheeks when he left a kiss on the back of it, nor his mischievous smile.

He knew when you had fallen asleep by the decrease in the strength of your grip, but although he tried to imitate you he couldn't do it. His mind continued to be tormented by the impulses that had invaded him that night, trying to find what reason was behind it, but also wondering how bad it would be to carry them out.

A little defeated, he got up from the floor, but not before carefully placing the hand that was holding you on your chest, and he went to see the landscape through the bedroom window. Snowflakes were falling and the lights of the casinos illuminated the view, reminding him that Las Vegas never slept, adding to these the colorful Christmas trees installed everywhere. In his family Christmas wasn’t celebrated conventionally, as it was just him and his mother having dinner ordered from a restaurant. There were gifts, they were almost always books or objects related to science, but he didn't make sense of the idea of warmth and love that revolved around the holiday. Until one time your family invited him to celebrate, he was finally able to understand that Christmas magic that everyone was talking about and from then on it was his reference for the celebration.

After staring at the window for a while he focused on the vision of you lying on the mattress, sleeping in that strange position that you always used to, and he asked himself how many years it was that he had been in love with you and how it was that he had never noticed it.

He let out a sigh that showed resignation, but also tremendous fear, and finally retraced his steps to pick up the blanket and pillows from the floor. He climbed onto the bed, knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep otherwise, and he lay down next to you, trying not to make any movements that would disturb your calm. The last thing he saw before falling into morpheus’s arms was your peaceful face, and even when he slept his dreams were filled with your smile.

The unsub was successfully caught, just as he had predicted, the next day and that was when he could breathe easy again. You were no longer in danger, outside of the usual danger that a woman from the United States faces, so you could return to your normal life without any problems.

Once you were back at your apartment Spencer said goodbye, promising that he would see you again soon, and heeded your advice about visiting Diana. He asked Aaron if he could stay in Vegas, after all the Christmas holidays were right around the corner and he made the excuse that he could come back if a new case came up. When the boss granted his request he wasted no time and headed to Bennington Sanitarium while the rest of the team headed to Virginia on the jet.

When he arrived good news about his mother greeted him, all referring to the improvement she had with the new medication, and when the doctors' report was finished they took him to the room where she was. Diana was reading to another patient and Reid smiled lovingly at the sight, a smile that was reciprocated when his mother noticed his presence.

“My child, I didn’t expect your visit,” she murmured, while she received the man in her arms.

“There was a case here and I decided to stay with you for a few days, if that's okay with you.”

“Of course it's okay with me, do you think I wouldn't want to see you?” she smiled, patting his face and hearing him laugh.

Both of them moved to her bedroom where they shared stories that she hadn’t read in the letters or that deserved to be deepened now that they were together. Her mother talked to her about how she had been feeling, some workshops she had taught and new people who had joined and she had befriended. He was very happy to see Diana so happy and lively, contrary to other visits where the circumstances had been more unfortunate.

The talk was interrupted by a nurse bringing dinner to Diana and a portion of contraband for Spencer, who was extremely grateful. In the middle of the silence of dinner his mind returned to you and when he looked at his mother, he knew that if anyone could give him good advice it was her.

“Mom, can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course,” she replied, pushing her food aside so Spencer could sit on the bed with her “What is it?”

“Well, huh… I guess you remember my friend Y/N, right? My God, of course you remember her” he answered himself, knowing that he was always talking about you in his letters “The fact is that I… I have felt weird with her since my birthday.”

“Weird how?”

“I don't know, like… different,” he murmured, not knowing if that would be the right word for the nature of his feelings.

“You don't want to be her friend anymore?

“Quite the opposite, actually,” he murmured nervously. He considered it prudent to explain the situation that had arisen from the case and about your stay with him during these days, so that his mother could understand the fear that he had suffered, before continuing talking “And last night when I got to my room and she was there I felt… I don't know, I don't even know how to say it. I only felt enormous relief to see her well and I wanted her to always be well."

“Well, you grew up together. It's normal that you worry about her, you guys are almost like family”

“But I can't see her like that,” he interrupted her. He hated her comparison, because he knew what brotherly love was and it was definitely not how he felt about you “I think I'm in love with her. No, I know I'm in love with her. And I… I'm scared” 

Diana's attentive eyes studied her son and Spencer didn’t know how to interpret her silence, until he felt his mother's hand placed on her knee and saw a smile appear on her face. 

“Oh, my boy… Why are you afraid to love?”

“I am not afraid to love. I'm afraid of not being loved”

That was. Spencer wasn't afraid of having those feelings, but rather he was afraid that they wouldn't be reciprocated. If he confessed things to you, he risked having the greatest romance in his life or being cruelly rejected by the best friend he had ever had.

Diana cupped her son's face with both hands and gave him a compassionate smile.

“You are, for more years than you can think,” she exclaimed, with complete confidence, and the man frowned in confusion.

"How do you know?"

“A mother notices those things, son,” Diana laughed. “Even one like me.”

Would his mother be telling the truth? He wasn't the best at reading social cues and that was clear, so he didn't know the difference between friendly behavior and one that held another interest when it came to you, but he doubted for a second if Diana was the best person to interpret those signs. He didn't even entertain the possibility that you had feelings for him, I mean, you were so pretty and funny and cool and he… well, he was just him.

“Are you going to tell her?” she added, noticing that he had remained silent.

"I should?"

"Sure! If not now, when will you do it?”

"But I…"

“But nothing,” she interrupted him. “I want you to go find her and tell her.”

"Now?!" Spencer screamed, feeling his mother get up and push him to the exit. “But mom…”

“When will you be in Las Vegas again?” she pointed out “I'm not going to leave here, you can come back tomorrow.”

"But it's too late"

“So what, Spencer? “Do you think I don’t want to see you married before meeting the creator?” Diana insisted and the man opened his eyes widely in a mixture of surprise and amusement. “The sooner the better. Go tell her, come on. And it would be better if you come back tomorrow that she will accompany you.”

Spencer watched her from the hallway for a few seconds and at the woman's security he felt a certain emotion, letting fear be replaced by pure motivation for the first time. He nodded and took a couple of determined steps toward the exit, but then he stopped and turned to wrap his mother in a tight hug.

"Thanks, Mom. I love you”

“I love you more,” she smiled. “Now go.”

Spencer left there completely determined and took the first taxi he saw to take you to your apartment, with his heart beating like crazy all over his chest and his mind busy searching for the words with which he would profess his feelings for you.

Inside your apartment you let out a squeal when you heard the microwave announcing that your reheated food was ready and you rushed there to return as soon as possible to see David Tennant's hottie in a trench coat. You had to admit knowing Doctor Who, at first, had been against your will, but now it was an acquired taste that you quite enjoyed and accompanied you on your sleepless nights. After a few seconds you returned to the living room with your burrito in your hand and just when you were about to play the Christmas special when someone knocked on your door, startling you a little.

“Mrs. Jensen, is that you? I already told you that I haven't seen your cat around here” you half shouted, without opening the door, but there was no response “Hello?”

“It's me,” said a fairly familiar voice. You thought you were wrong so you opened the door just a little and through the chain lock you could see that, indeed, it was your friend.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, opening the door fully. “I thought you were going back to DC.”

“I changed my mind” he replied and until then you noticed that he was holding a bouquet of tulips decorated with a white bow, which he extended in your direction for you to take. That only added to your confusion.

“Wow, I… Thank you?”

“Can I come in?” He asked timidly and as soon as you scooted to the side he walked into the apartment, not looking at you.

"Everything's fine?"

"No. I mean, yeah…” he stammered, looking you up and down. You were wearing thermal pajamas with a Christmas print and you were without shoes, with a messy bun holding your hair. “Did you like them?”

"What?"

“The flowers,” he pointed out.

"Oh yeah. They are beautiful” you smiled, looking at them carefully. There was a good number of red tulips, some open and others were just a small bud. “What are they for?”

“I didn't want to arrive empty-handed,” he lied. “I got them at a flower shop near here, a very sweet old woman sold them to me.”

“Well, thank you, then,” you smiled and he responded in kind, but then he didn’t speak again. You were just observing him, not figuring out what was causing his strange behavior. “Do you want to sit down?”

The flowers ended up in a vase on the counter in the kitchen and when you returned he was already sitting on the couch, legs together and hands on his knees.

"And how are you?"

“Well, I was about to eat something while watching the Doctor Who Christmas special,” you told him. You expected him to start ranting about fun facts or the story or the actors or anything, but he just smiled at you understandingly and stayed silent. “Is your mom okay?”

“Yes, she is. I was having dinner with her a while ago, but... I thought I'd come here because I want to tell you something important."

Oh, you thought, there's the real reason for his nocturnal visit. 

"Yeah? What is it about?" you asked, slightly worried about whatever he had to say.

Everything he had thought about in the car seemed to have been erased from his memory and now Spencer didn't even know where to start. He had only confessed these kinds of feelings to two people in his life and neither of those times had turned out well, so he didn't know what to expect.

“Okay, I'm going to tell you, but you have to promise me that you will take it in the best way, okay?” he asked and you nodded. "And this won't change anything between us if you... if you don't agree with what I'm going to tell you."

“Hey, you're scaring me,” you joked nervously, but when you didn't hear him laugh your fear became genuine. “Is something wrong? You know you can tell me anything.”

“It's not a bad thing. Well, not unless you want it to be.”

“Well, tell me then,” you encouraged him kindly, with a smile that provided him with the courage he needed.

You were so pretty and he just wanted to kiss you to death.

“We've known each other for practically our entire lives, right?” he began “I still remember the first time I talked to you. And I don't speak figuratively, but I really remember it, it's one of the things from my childhood that my brain didn't throw away. I had been watching you from the window because you went out to your yard to spread a blanket to play with dolls and cars and all kinds of things. Sometimes you jumped rope and other times you kicked the ball and all I could think about was how you could have so much fun being alone. I mean, I was just reading and studying things with my microscope and you know, nerdy things” he murmured, letting out a short laugh “Until one day you knocked on my window and asked me if I wanted to play with you.”

“My mom told me to do it,” you confessed, “Well, I suggested it, but she encouraged me to do it. It always made me sad to see you there and I thought you were just too shy to come over and play.”

“But no one had ever done that. Include me in some activity, I mean. Everyone made fun of me at school or called me weird, but not you, not even when I deserved it. It made me happy that a girl like that wanted to be with me and even though you had too much energy, somehow I could keep up with you. When we grew up I thought you would just get bored of me, but that wasn't the case and even when I was promoted in grade you stayed in contact with me. You were there when mom got worse and I had to send her to that sanatorium and yet your family treated me like I was your own family. You have always been there for me and you have made me feel less alone in the world, and I don't think I have ever thanked you for that.”

“Oh, Crash,” you smiled, a couple of tears gathering on your eyelids. “You don't need to do that. I have done everything because that is what friends are for.”

“But I don't want to be friends,” he said immediately and your expression changed to a worried one at that moment. The silence between you made you imagine the worst, but it was only because he was gathering the courage to continue “To me you are something else.”

Your face contorted into another grimace, but this time one of surprise and confusion.

"What do you me…?”

“I'm in love with you,” he spat. This time all his years of training were of no use as he tried to decipher your expression. “And it's okay if you don't feel the same way about me, I'm not asking that of you. I just want you to know that the day I got here for the case I... I was going crazy at the mere thought of someone hurting you. I didn't realize that you meant everything to me until that moment and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since. That night I just wanted to hold you and keep you safe for the rest of our lives and although I don't have much experience, I think that's what love feels like. I have always loved you, only now it is a different love. And I'll understand if you don't feel the same way about me and I just misinterpreted things, but please, if that's the case, just let me stay your friend because I don't think I can handle messing things up. I don't ask you for anything more than that, that whatever you feel, things don't become uncomfortable just because of what I just told you."

There were a few seconds of silence and then he finally dared to look at you. You were stunned, with your gaze lost and your lips parted. Years of friendship passed before the man's eyes, who interpreted your lack of conversation as a rejection of his feelings, and he felt his heart break a little. From the beginning he was aware that this possibility existed, but now that it had materialized, he realized that perhaps he wasn’t ready.

But then your eyes met his and he felt your hand reach out to his, which was already shaking slightly.

“Your hands are cold,” you observed, sliding a little on the couch so you could take both of his limbs. Spencer followed your movements carefully and could see how you brought both hands to your lips to place a kiss on his knuckles.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“I actually have too much to say, I just don't know how,” you confessed.

“You don't have to lie to avoid hurting me. I already told you, it's okay if you don't feel the same."

“Spencer Reid,” you said sternly, thus forcing him to look at you. “Stop saying that.”

“So it's not like that?”

“Of course not, why would you think so?” You mumbled, really waiting for a response that never came. You watched him carefully, trying to memorize all his features, while you reflected on how much he had changed in front of your eyes and how he was still the same scared little boy from the window.

“Because… I don't know, there has never been someone who loves me the way I am.”

“Oh, Spencer,” you murmured condescendingly, “I've loved you since you were an ugly kid with glasses who couldn't stop talking about science, what other proof do you need?”

He definitely wasn't expecting that answer and that's why he started laughing; not like a soft laugh, but a loud, euphoric laugh.

“Why do you call me ugly kid?”

“You were!” You defended yourself, accompanying him in his joy. You had probably ruined the most romantic moment of your life, however, it was worth it to see the man laugh like that. And after all you were still his best friend, it was your job to joke like that “And yet I liked you, you can't imagine how much. Then you grew up and became this perfect prototype of a boy and you were so focused on your studies that I thought you weren't interested in me, at least in that way. But you were my friend and I was happy like that, I always have been. I tried to bury those feelings because I was also afraid of ruining things, but now you come to tell me all this, and I just don't believe it."

"Are you serious?" he asked, trying not to get overwhelmed by the fact that you had just called him perfect and that you were confessing to him that you had been feeling what he was feeling since you two met. When you nodded, another laugh escaped him as he thought that, after all, his mother had been right.

He had to take a moment to digest the situation. You loved him, you really did, and things weren't ruined. He felt foolish thinking about how long you had been keeping this quiet and how he hadn't noticed, but he concluded that if he had found out at another time he probably would have freaked out and things would have ended very differently, a result he would regret for the rest of his life.

Your hands were still joined and Spencer began to rub his thumb against the back of them, feeling the luckiest to see you smile at him that way and knowing the reason for that expression.

“Is that why you brought me the tulips?” you exclaimed in a sweet voice. You should have sensed it before but only now did you realize that detail.

“Yes, I wanted to surprise you,” he replied, quite satisfied with himself. “I thought about them because, in fact, in the language of flowers, tulips symbolize hope, sincere love and prosperity, but depending on their color the meaning can be transformed. Red tulips, in this case, are ideal for a statement and express unconditional love.”

You let out a gentle laugh, feeling nothing but tenderness at his reaction.

“There's my usual boy,” you said with a proud tone, reaching out to leave a loud kiss on his cheek. Something in Spencer stirred when he heard you call him yours and that desire to kiss you returned, this time with more intensity than before.

"And then?" he asked in your direction. With your eyes you asked for a more complete explanation of what precisely he was referring to “Do you accept me? Do you accept my love?”

“Of course I do,” you replied obviously, giving him that confirmation he needed.

“And if I asked you something serious for us right now, what would you tell me?”

You looked at him for a second, looking for a sign of lying on his face, but when you didn't find it, you smiled, your cheeks completely blushing.

“I would tell you that I would have liked to be more prepared. I'm in pajamas and I smell like a burrito, I think I've looked better."

"It doesn’t matter. "I can take you on a date later, in a nice and elegant place, like you deserve," he murmured excitedly, stopping holding one of your hands to place it on your face. "But only if that's what you want."

“I do, handsome,” you smiled, sliding your hand to surround his wrist. “It's the most definitive yes of my entire life.”

You had dreamed of this moment for a long time, but you had never believed it could come true and now that it had, your heart was overflowing with joy. He was smiling from ear to ear and you suddenly realized that his eyes traveled momentarily to your lips. You saw him swallow, undecided about the next move, so you decided to save him a little effort and reached out until your lips collided with his.

You took him by surprise and although at first it felt strange to be doing that with him, almost as if it were wrong, after a couple of seconds the contact relaxed and you knew that you no longer wanted to kiss lips other than his.

With every second he caressed you in a deeper and more needy way, very different from what you had expected, even his hands took you firmly by the waist to keep you as close to him as possible. He tasted like years of mutual longing and mint gum and it had you completely giddy. You separated only when it was vital to take a breath and then you continued kissing, already addicted to a drug you had just discovered.

“You're so pretty,” he sighed against your lips, allowing himself to compliment you now that he knew you reciprocated. “So, so pretty. And so sweet to me” he recited between kisses, each one gentler than the last “You are perfect.”

“Reid, stop it,” you asked him, feeling nervous from hearing him talk to you like that and feeling him kiss you like that.

"Why? That's what I think. I've always thought so” he smiled, separating himself from you just to enjoy the sight of your beauty, and then he gently caressed the side of your head “I love you” he said.

Your cheeks already hurt from smiling so much and yet you managed to give him that vision again, and how could you not? The man of your dreams was telling you that he loved you.

You leaned in again to kiss him, this time more briefly and delicately, and then you looked into his eyes.

“I love you too” you confessed.

And both of you knew that you didn't need anything more than that.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove

people who might be interested: @stephsycamore @andiebeaword @tothecar @reiderwriter @babymetaldoll @zuckker-blog

[meowpupp]

FROTHING AT THE MOUTH

simon riely x chubby!reader

tw// slight blood play (nothing extreme,) possessiveness, HEAPS of praise

simon who is just so utterly obsessed with you. with owning you, fucking you, with being yours. 

he’s infamous, everyone knows who he is. he doesn’t flaunt his strength or outwardly display just how vicious he is, but it’s hard for rumours not to spread if each time a man looks at you he beats them an inch within their life. 

but no matter how bloody and bruised he gets, you’re always there. you sit him down on the edge of the bathtub, careful hands disinfecting his wounds. 

another night at a club leads you here. everyone in the area knows you’re simon’s girl, but some still can’t resist getting handsy. but simon was always there, watching, waiting, ready to put a man back into their place. 

there’s a sick type of joy he gets from ‘protecting’ you, as he puts it. hes a feral mutt, born to bite, and you are the only soft thing he’s ever had. it’s no wonder he snarls when something even remotely threatens you. 

but no matter how mean he is to others, he is always, always, soft for you. just for you. he watches with half-lidded eyes as you bandage his knuckles. kissing over each one, its like you aim to take away the pain. this is familiar. this is comfortable. this is love. 

he pulls his big hand from yours, giving you the other one. his knuckles are split and bruised, an angry red and purple colour. “you’re too sweet f’me lovie.” his voice is slightly slurred, a testament to the alcohol he’s drank. you can smell it when he speaks. a mix of bourbon and cigarettes. its somehow addicting, just like everything else about him. 

you just tut, rolling your eyes as you work on his hand. “someone has to be.” he huffs out a laugh, averting his eyes from you.

soon enough they’re both fixed. you kiss his palms once more for good luck, giggling as he raises an eyebrow. he gives you a smirk, something about it sends a shiver through your body. his split lip and black eye give him an air of something dangerous. you should leave, run, and never speak to him again. but just like eve, you bite. 

his hands move to your hips, gripping and squeezing the fat. he watches the way it bulges between the gaps of his fingers. a low groan rips from his throat, pulling you forward till you sit in his lap. 

his hands are warm as they slide up your waist, thumbs rubbing small circles on your sternum. “such a pretty fuckin girl.” he growls, his eyes half-lidded and heated as they trail your body. the curves of your hips, your soft tummy, the way your thighs splay around his waist. it’s a dangerous mix, one that makes his cock strain in his pants. 

“you’re so good t’me,” he leans forward, kissing up your neck, “my good girl.” his stubble brushes against your skin as he speaks, causing shivers to shoot up your spine. your thighs clench around his waist, and he laughs. it’s low, tempting and arrogant. he’s everything your parents told you to stay away from, and yet you can’t help yourself. 

in another life, simon would be the symbol of saints. sandy blonde hair, pale skin, and dark chocolate eyes. his lips are pale pink, his eyelashes long. everything about him is a stereotypical representation of purity. he looks like an angel, one worthy of a gods favouritism. 

but that isn’t this life. your simon is pierced, his right eyebrow and tongue shining with metal. your simon wears smudged eyeliner and leather jackets. he drives too fast and smokes daily. your simon easily surrenders to sin, his biggest temptation being you. 

and so, he can’t help but give in. 

his lips crash against yours, devouring you. he takes and takes and takes, demanding every ounce of your being. his tongue piercing never fails to make you moan. the metal is cool despite how hot and needy the kiss is. your hands cup his jaw, denying him an inch of space away from you. not that he’d ever take it. 

one of his hands drops to your hip, nails digging in. he guides them, setting a slow rhythm as you grind against him. the zipper of his jeans nudges your clit just right, sending shockwaves through your body. 

neither of you speak, completely lost in each other. the moans and groans from you both fill the room. his hands are greedy, groping any inch of your skin he can. his lips pull from yours, only to trail hot kisses down your throat. he bites and sucks at the delicate skin. a deep groan rips from his throat as he tastes iron, staining his lips red. he bucks up into you, a silent command for you to grind faster. 

you pant into his ear, arms wrapping around his body. your nails scratch at his back, the sensation sending shocks of white-hot pleasure through his body. he groans, eyes squeezing shut. this must be heaven. nothing else could ever feel as good as you. 

simon pulls back, lips and chin smeared with your blood. he smirks up at you, the red liquid staining his teeth. he looks feral, like an animal devouring prey. his eyes scan up and down your body. the way your cheeks flush, how your chest heaves, the way your hips roll. he wants to consume you, to devour every fibre of your being and keep it to himself. no one else should ever get the privilege of touching you like this. simon may not be your first, but he will be your last. he wont have it any other way. 

your eyes are half-lidded, a look simon adores. you look so pretty, lips parted as you whine, neck marked up, back arched. his hands settle on your waist, guiding you to move faster, harder. “cmon lovie, want you t’stain my fuckin jeans.” his hips buck up into you, the button of his jeans pressing against your clit. he grins as you whine, back arching, face contorting in pleasure. 

your hands claw at his jaw, pulling him forward. his lips crash into yours again. you can taste your own blood, only making your clit throb. he groans deep in his chest, cock twitching. 

his hands move, pushing your shirt up. he takes a moment to watch your tits, the way they move as your chest heaves. he gropes the soft fat, pinching and rolling your nipples. simon kisses you once again, swallowing every needy whine like a starved man. 

“cmon baby, give it to me,” his lips brush yours as he speaks, the hand on your chest trailing up to your neck, squeezing, “cum f’me, cum f’me pretty girl.” 

he grins as you tense, moaning loudly and clinging to him as you finish. his arms wrap around you, lips brushing your ear as he talks you through your orgasm, his following soon after. 

“good fuckin girl. so perfect, so fuckin obedient,” he grips your jaw, forcing your fucked out gaze to meet his, “how bout i give you some really dick, hm? a nice thank you for bein so good to me.” he smirks, almost laughing as you nod. 

[leclsrc]

could i get a carlos imagine where you have commitment issues and he calms you down? as a girlie with commitment/trust issues i just wanna b repped in one of ur fics/drabbles :/// it's tuff out here brotha

bring you home — cs55

Moving in together gets difficult. Carlos is there to ease you along. title from this

genre: fluff

auds here... i hope you enjoy this!!! i too am a commitment-afflicted girl ..... it truly is tough lol. but i hope u find the right person who helps u put ur anxieties to rest <3 insp by a scene from satc i saw on tiktok

It started with a duck. But the duck started with the box. And the box started with a toothbrush joke. And the toothbrush joke started with your old lady neighbor moving out. So really, it started with Mrs. McDonnell and her massive moving van rolling down the street and leaving the flat next door empty. Somehow that old hag had managed to irritate you long after she left, albeit through means not her own.

In terms of time, it started a month ago. In terms of people (sans the old bitch), it started with Carlos, as so many of your stories do. “Mrs. McDonald finally moved out today,” he’d said, hip against your stove, watching bits of garlic turn from pale to brown. From the living room you hummed affirmation and then laughed: “McDonnell.”

“Donald, Donnell, Dinero,” he rolled his eyes. “Everyone’s moving in and out. Charles bought a new place in Monaco.”

“Well,” you shrugged, fixing the ridden-up hem of your tank top, “you could have an extra toothbrush in here, if that gets y’there.”

He laughed, pointing at you with the oil-hot rubber tip of the spatula. You two had been dating for over a year at that point, yet any suggestions of moving in together remained vague, cloudish ideas in both of your heads. For him it was impractical; for you it was a little scary.

But a toothbrush, which he always had at your flat and you at his, wasn’t moving in together. Neither was a drawer of clothes and knick-knacks. It was a symbol of your busy lives and the intermittent intersections far and few between.

Except they’d been becoming less intermittent and a lot more constant. He was almost always at your flat, the wide two-bedroom you’d decided was a good place to live with your income and the area. You had two parking spaces, a good rep with the board, and a coffee shop across the street—a place all your own.

A little plus was you had Carlos on some free days, like that day—that fateful day he turned back to the pan and said, with a smile: “I should move in.”

You froze. “You’re asking—you’re telling me or the garlic?” In fits of nerves, you could only blurt out bad jokes.

He laughed but it was a small exhale of breath. “I’m serious.” He turned to you, brown eyes big.

Your heart swelled with something between apprehension and absolute excitement, that finally you were going to take a step you felt like you’d been waiting to take forever. “You are?” You asked, so giddily you could hear your own smile.

The truth was, you had moved in with a boyfriend before, offered him a key and suggested the entire affair, bought fresh flowers and cooked eggs and made coffee and lived the bliss you only read about in romance novels. Months later you caught him fucking somebody else in your bedroom, and years later the memory fails to purge itself from your mind or your habits, plaguing every inner thought you have.

But this, you assure yourself, is Carlos.

“Dead seriou—uuooof!” Carlos barely got to the end of his sentence, with the way you barrelled into him, smiling into the blocky build of his chest and muttering a repetitive yes yes yes into the cotton of his tee. He held you there, pressing a kiss to your hair and promising he’d be in with his boxes as soon as time made way.

—

“Make way,” you yell into the tiny gap between your door and its frame.

“Hey, hi, hello,” your boyfriend sing-songs. “How are you?”

In the month you’d spent watching your boyfriend move into your flat, you’d also been subjected to your complete lack of personal space. Every time you entered, he’d be there talking his head off. Every time you came home at night, he’d be there. You felt suffocated. Scared, even if you couldn’t sleep at night without some part of you touching him. You’re simply a human with needs, and you needed space. You needed silence. Needed it. Absolutely needed it. You knew this because every time you opened your own door, it collided with a—

“Box.” You shove yourself through the gap and wedge the door closed, pointing an accusatory finger at the cardboard. “Another box by the door. Don’t make me burn those,” you mutter, fussing with your hair and toeing off your Blahniks. Across the foyer, Carlos is nailing something into the wall, noisy and incessant and you want to shrink into the floor.

“Sorry, sorry. Lo siento. I have so many stuff.”

“Yeah! You do. My flat’s only nay fucking big,” you respond, raising your pointer finger and thumb to exaggerate the size of your (in actuality, wide) living space. “Carlos, couldn’t you unpack some of these? Just some. It’s—you know, it’s piling up. And you know I hate mess.”

“I know, baby. I will as soon as I finish this up. I promise.”

You nod once, sighing and moving into the study to gather your laptop for work. You’re halfway into the room, eyes scanning your desk’s surface and finding your Mac laying flat atop it, unassuming next to a figurine of a wooden duck. You pause and blink. The wooden duck does not, its eyes painted wide and smooth and you definitely did not purchase this duck.

Somehow, this is the straw that breaks your back.

“What is this duck doing here?!” You yell, voice loud even from the study into the foyer. Carlos pulls off the goggles he’d been wearing to drill shit into your wall and smiles. A gift from me.

“A gif—I, I, I don’t like ducks.” You flail your arms around. “I just… hearing you talk or drill as soon as I come into my own home feels weird. For so long I’ve been alone and… and I’m supposed to hear silence and I—I’m scared that you’re going to figure out how scared I am and you’re going to leave me.”

He just stares, eyebrows knitted. You smother a hand over your face. You pause and breathe for a minute, then two.

“It’s just—I’ve only lived with someone three months, and that was ages ago, and before that it was my parents, so. I’m going to be really frank with you and I’m sorry if this sounds… but I’m gonna close the bedroom door and I don’t want you to talk to me for thirty minutes. I need space. And keep the duck first. I’m sorry. Is that selfish? Is that okay?” When he shakes his head and then nods, you deposit it into his arms and back up into your room.

His face, torn between concerned and endeared, softens into an understanding, patient smile. Okay, he mouths. I love you, you mouth back, and then you’re shutting it softly, leaning your forehead against the white wood and letting a long exhale leave your lips. You half-expected him to fight you back, to raise his voice, but it’s your own worst expectations weighing down on you all over again, born out of memories of your ex.

You stay like that for a while, and slowly with the quiet you realize—you find the duck cute.

You like the boxes because they remind you this is becoming a home. You like hearing him talk because it means you know he’s there. (The drilling will always be irritating, but he makes it better.) You don’t dislike anything he does, but you’re not totally lying either: you are scared. Scared of the commitment it’d take to make this a sure thing. The commitment you’d given before and the commitment that’d been betrayed.

But this is Carlos. This is Carlos, who’s understood every part of you, who’s given you time and patience even when you didn’t know how much you needed it. The Carlos who knows how you like your toast, who eats the yolk off your sunny-side eggs and gives you the white of his hard-boiled ones. The Carlos who said I love you first, surprising you into shock, and then took it back in embarrassment before you cut him off with a kiss. The Carlos who stays.

The air clears and you breathe easier. You open the door after five minutes. “You okay?”

He’s unpacking a box. He turns and smiles wryly, mimicking a zip motion across his lips. He shakes his head. No talking, remember?

You pout, smiling. “Sorry if I’m neurotic.”

You pad softly toward him and it’s easy, too easy for him to pick you up into his arms, wrap your legs around his waist, stay standing and hugging you. He’s quiet still, patient, warm. “I like hearing you talk. I like your boxes. I like that you’re mine and we’re here.” You inhale. “‘M just scared. And I don’t… want to be, but I am, and… it’s just me. I’m crazy.”

“Hey, Crazy. So am I. Take your time.” He hugs you tighter. “I’m not gonna leave you, even if you hated the duck.” I didn’t, you say quietly. It was cute. “I know it’s hard, baby. I know. You have to let me take care of you. You have me, okay? You have me.”

“And when you’re not here?” Fear slithers up and tries to tug at you but his arms are around you, secure and holding you there, so you don’t let it.

The thing with needs, really, is when they’re met—met in the best, most understanding way, especially…

He kisses your neck. “I’ll always be.”

…You find you no longer need them at all.

[cupidlovesastro]

𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚒𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝟽𝟶𝟼𝟼 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜

what does nessus represent?

nessus represents abusive behavior. also abuse that may have not happened to you, but was witnessed. other things this asteroid also represents is manipulation, unhealthy dynamics, harmful behavior, power, control, revenge, and guilt. this placement symbolizes ways you have been a victim, ways you may hurt others or be prone to hurting others, or both.

✃1st house- destruction of identity, bad first impressions, criticized for appearance, scars/ scarring, intimidation, negative energy, negative aura, aggressive impression, overly dominant, visible power trips, lying about identity, misleading information about a person, no sense of self/ identity

✁2nd house- poor money management, unstable financial situation, using money to get away with things, bribery, using money as a reason to stay with someone, poverty, toxic work environment, toxic boss, unhealthy work ethic, poor spending habits, skewed priorities, believing money is the only thing that makes you happy, unpredictable day to day routines, workaholic, being forced to work, doing bad things for money, greediness, valuing objects over people, skewed morals and values, cycles of bad habits

✃3rd house- negative thinking habits, delusions, poor communication, manipulation, guilt tripping, gaslighting, bad relationship with siblings, black sheep out of siblings, antisocial, poor education, abusive school environment, bullying, cyber bullying, intrusive thoughts, suicidal thoughts, thoughts of harming others , mental abuse, mental illness, thoughts of superiority, revenge, power, and control, neurological disorders, depression, anxiety, social anxiety, obsessive compulsive disorder

✁4th house- toxic mother/ mother figure, bad family relationships, mommy issues, bad home life, abusive family, black sheep of the family, hard time connecting with women, bad relationships with women, issues with femininity, poor emotional development, hard time controlling emotions, thoughts of controlling, harming, over powering women, misogyny, bad emotional regulation, mood disorders, bad self image, little to no foundation, harming family, more aligned with your masculine side, toxic masculinity

✃5th house- toxic romantic relationship, horrible relationship dynamics, cheating, lying, manipulative partner(s), affairs, intense and short lived relationships, karmic relationships, one night stands, bad romantic influences, thoughts of harming, controlling, skewed beliefs of romantic relationships, seeking revenge on a partner, hatred for children, low fertility, miscarriages, child endangerment, neglect, abuse, poor or negative self expression, bad impressions, dramatic, drama seeking, over indulging into hobbies, not having enough or lacking hobbies, no creative outlet, being told your art is bad, distant from their inner child, deeply wounded inner child, depression, mood disorders, personality disorders

✁6th house- animal abuse, animal neglect, no stability, no rules, no boundaries, no restrictions, poor hygiene or lacking examples of proper hygiene, toxic work environment(s), toxic bosses or coworkers, sense of worthlessness, struggles with feeling like enough, neglect of hygienic needs, messy living area, being told your dirty or nasty, being forced to do house chores, workaholic, only sense of belonging is through accomplishments in jobs, doing jobs that make you lose dignity, lack of discipline

✃7th house- abusive relationships, abusive marriages, bad relationship dynamics, no sense of equality in the relationship, one sided dynamic, hot and cold partner, overly dominant partner, manipulation, unbalanced relationship, trust issues, wanting a partner to be completely dependent on you, need for control, clinginess, bad business partner(s), business partner who is unethical, greediness from a business partner, bad business deals, poor business decisions

✁8th house- sexual abuse, hypersexual , sex repulsed, fear of intimacy, fear of emotions intimacy, secrets, doing sneaky things, lying about stuff, never letting anyone in your heart/ mine, shared bank account being poorly managed, using nudes as blackmail, exploiting someone’s body, hard time unionizing with others, those that try to unionize are treated badly

✃9th house- moving place to place constantly which led to lack of stability, being told your beliefs are dumb , manipulated into believing negative things, religious trauma, toxic religious community, raised in a racist house hold, judgement towards race, culture, religion, ignorance for other people, being forced to drop out, being told college isn’t for you, dream crushing, bad at academics, toxic teachers, bullying, no justice faced, issues with the justice system, being belittled for your thoughts and opinions

✁10th house- joining careers that you never wanted to join, being treated badly in work environments, being told you weren’t going to succeed in life, being discouraged from long term goals, bad reputation, someone lying to create a bad reputation for someone else, rumors, gossiping, cancelation, being looked down upon by the public, toxic masculinity, more aligned with feminine side, wanting to cause harm to men, no father figure or a bad father figure, abuse from father figure, being famous for something bad, toxic femininity, daddy issues

✃11th house-abuse from a group of people, abuse from group homes, bullying from friends, fake friends, gossip, rumoring, hard time connecting with people on a platonic level, desires to control, hurt, dominate, or seek revenge on a friend, feeling like an outcast, apathy for humanity, desires to rule the world, cults, harmful communities, manipulation from communities, manipulation from friends, being told your dreams won’t come true, having your wishes be belittled, dream crushing, discouraged to look into a brighter future

✁12th house- never ending toxic cycles, nightmares of trauma, flash backs from trauma, unhealthy core beliefs, lacking closure, hard time healing, resistance to healing, someone not allowing someone else to heal, trauma around spirituality, religious trauma, having witchcraft done on someone, trauma from haunted area, connections with the after life, never coming forward about abuse, burying bad memories, not seeking help on trauma, karma, karmic relationships, hard time manifesting, blockages

[thedivineart]

10 THINGS ABOUT YOUR JUNE

navigation ៸៸⠀ 𓊆 𓋈 𓊇 · · · I'll make u feel ease ⭒ !

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ONE

1. If you have been wishing for a new relationship this coming month, you can expect it. For others this could be mean your getting married/ a proposal from someone. For some this could be a new child or announcement of pregnancy. It could also mean a new beginning for most of you.

2. Moving to new residential area or purchasing new home, could also mean a new/ buying land for some.

3. Travel especially through water. If you ever have business or job possibly you will change your location or will have a partnership with someone if ever you got business. This could also mean that you should take care of yourself next month and drink plenty of water. Might also signifies that the most of your June will be a rainy days or you would buy/ build a pool since it will be extremely hot.

4. You will also be experiencing some negative emotion especially the pain and tears this might be a reason of some type of exam, a test, or could be an insult and heartbreak from someone.

5. You will have a new transportation vehicle such as like car for sample. It also symbolize moving on to something such as situation, relationship, an ending/beginning. You will be releasing something that aren't serving you at all.

6. You will be more focusing in socializing in internet. It could also mean that you will be meeting someone new through the internet. This could signifies that you will be more private in life and away from the toxic of social media.

7. You will try to be yourself even though you scared to interact since you are shy and quiet type of person. For others this could mean that luck is coming in you. Might also be mean that you will have a long distance relationship with someone or you will be waiting in such long time for something you dream about.

8. You could be meeting a new people especially male for most of the people who pick this pile.

9. You will be fixing some of property, license, or even bank account. For others this could be mean that you will be receiving financial stability.

10. You will be worrying about something for this month. It could also symbolize that you should be careful about dealing with people even though you know them since someone is eyeing you.

TWO

1. Receiving some financial uplifts, could be mean that a inheritance from someone else. For others, this could signifies that you will be traveling in other places. To few, some of your desires/ dreams or goals will be fulfill to the next month.

2. Water will be significant for you, could be mean that you should drink water to nourish your body. Also symbolizes that you will be traveling through water like in ships or going to beaches. For few, this could be mean that the next month have a lot of rainy days

3. You will be planning to go in ophthalmologist since your vision is becoming somewhat blurry or you should be more cautious about using gadgets since it wasn't good for your eyes. This could also mean that someone (who can be an enemy) is watching you, so be careful to everyone your going to interact with.

4. Announcement of pregnancy or birth of a child, this could also mean the rebirth of your new self. A small celebration will be hold due to some achievement or announcement.

5. If expecting a new love arrival or even a new friendship this person will be come from warm country. For others, you can expect a love life or being in a relationship if ever your single.

6. You will have some small amount of money that will help you at some way, this might be given by someone who have connection with you. If you have been wanting to have part- time jobs in summer you will get one.

7. You will have a opportunity to something that will bring

happiness and satisfaction for you. You will try to social more

and be a social butterfly if ever you doesn't interacting much

with people.

8. You will be busy and putting all your energy into something. You will work hard to achieve it.

9. Wedding ceremony for someone you knew or you will be getting married next month, this could also symbolize that someone will propose to you or someone will try to date you.

10. You will try to focus more in your life and how you can nurture it. However you will find yourself distancing and ignoring the negative aspect that life will throw at you.

THREE

1. Plenty of achievement and victory for most of you, for others this could be marriages and engagement. It could also symbolize proposal for some. This also be mean that you will be traveling to a warm country or someone will come to your life and give warm into your life.

2. You will be receiving rewards and achievement in something your working at the present.

3. You will work hard in studying to aim higher grades or in work/business to achieve something that will help you like having more salary and sales. This could also mean for others that a problem will be resolve soon

4. However you will have a new problem and involved in something you never wanted to be in, so be careful in people you are putting your trust even you already knew them. will get

5. You will move on to something like a situation. This could be also signifies for others that you will be moving a new resident in next month. For few, you will try to make a progress in your personal life.

6. There's something that is coming for you I can't identify what it is but this will make you extremely happy. For others, you will become famous out of nowhere or if you are psychic you will connect your self more into spirituality, learning something about spirituality as well.

7. A friend/ ex lover will be back to your life and will try to reconnect with you again. For others, you will attend/ invite in most of the party or you will try to have some fun since you find out that your life becomes too boring.

8. Someone will be jealous about you, so be careful in everything you do and speak as well. For others, you will meet someone from a foreign country that has no good intentions but wouldn't show it to you.

9. Changing location either a work, residency, business, studies etc. It could also be mean that you will be having vacation in beaches or you will try to make a pool/ tub or could also mean that you should be drinking water since your body is needing it. Water will be significant for you.

10. You will try to live in peace or you will be moving somewhere you can called peaceful. This could also mean that you will try to heal from something that hurt you the most and make a progress from it.

© thedivineart. do not plagiarize any of my work, translate or repost it on other social media platform.

[mandos-mind-trick]

Jaig Eyes

Summary: Soulmates are forbidden among the clones. Yours just happens to be a certain Captain. Thankfully, he's not above breaking the rules sometimes.

Pairing: Captain Rex x medic!reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, P in V sex, no foreplay, unprotected sex, some description of battles, wounds, slight blood mention, drinking, partying, Soulmate AU

A/N: Rex my baby, my boy, one of my OG faves. It's about time I wrote something for him. I'm a little delirious from the heat, but I'm still alive. This was supposed to be the first one of the series but Tech and Crosshair demanded more attention.

MASTERLIST

The explosions are loud, even with the tanks as far ahead as they are. Your adrenaline is pumping, but you keep breathing, keeping it under control. That’s why you were chosen for this position, after all. Your ability to keep control even under the most overwhelming, stressful situations. 

Your home planet got hit hard early in the war. Due to its location near four major hyperspace lanes, both sides of the war needed to control it, and that came at the expense of its inhabitants. Many people lost their lives in the brutal battle, both civilians and clones. There wasn’t much left of your home afterwards, most inhabitants of the city displaced. 

So you decided to leave and join the GAR as a medic. You already had the experience, and after doing everything you could to help during the invasion, you had decided to put your life plans on hold and join the army. 

Your ability to keep calm under extreme duress had impressed your instructors during your training, and so they had given you the title of combat medic, and sent you off with the 501st Legion. You had practically been thrown right into the field, not that you had expected much less. 

Kix, the clone medic you served under, had given you a brief tour and rundown on the way to provide reinforcements to the 104th. He had warned you that the area they were landing in was going to be hot, and to expect to jump in right away. 

You had expected nothing less, having already seen just how ugly the front lines can be. 

That’s where you are now, treating troopers practically as they fall. 

“The Captain’s down!” 

The words ring loud and clear through your comm, the energy of the entire battalion shifting. You have yet to meet any of the clone commanders, much less the Captain of the 501st. You had been thrown into this rather rapidly. There would be a time for introductions later. 

Your name is called through the comms, Kix appearing with another trooper, dragging who you assumed was the Captain between them. They lay him on the ground, the other trooper running back into the heat of the battle. 

“We need to stabilize him before we can move him.” Kix says, kneeling next to the Captain. 

You kneel on his other side, taking a look at him. His entire right shoulder piece is missing, an ugly wound oozing blood. It’s a nasty shot, but he’s lucky it’s not on the left. 

“Bacta.” Kix says and you hand off an injector from your belt. 

You move to take off his helmet, your breath catching in your throat. Your eyes are drawn to his helmet, above his visor. The marking on it. You knew most of the clones used some sort of marking to distinguish themselves. Whether it be on their armor, or tattoos, or hairstyles, they all had unique aspects about them to give them individuality. 

This one, though. This one is startling to you. 

Most species in the galaxy experience the phenomenon of soulmates. There are a number that don’t, but they are vastly outnumbered by those that do. 

How one is linked to their soulmate can vary. Yours just happens to be the identifying mark. A symbol or even a phrase that means something to your other half. Or, for the lucky few, an entire name. Most got them at birth, or some shortly after. Rarely were there huge gaps in age between soulmates. Given the vast dichotomy of species in the galaxy, fate wasn’t that unkind. 

Well, most liked to think it wasn’t. 

Your mark showed up eleven years ago. You had already been well into your childhood when you woke up one morning to find a symbol on your chest. You’d never seen anything like it before. After some extensive research, you came to learn they’re called  jaig eyes, a symbol used by Mandalorians for distinguished warriors. A symbol of bravery, tattooed over your heart in blue.

You had thought your soulmate might be Mandalorian, and so you had spent years planning and working towards a trip to Mandalore. 

Then the war started, and your planet was invaded.

The entire situation had left such an impact on you, you decided to push your dreams of Mandalore, and your soulmate, aside for the time being. If fate had paired you together, you would meet eventually. 

You hadn’t expected this though. 

Your hands are shaking just a bit as you grab his helmet, pulling it off. You support his neck, easing his head to lie in the dirt. His face is pinched as Kix ties a tourniquet around his shoulder. 

“I’m fine.” He grunts out, nose scrunching in pain. 

“The gaping hole in your shoulder says otherwise.” Kix says, injecting the shot of bacta into the wound. 

You grimace a bit, knowing how much that hurts. Your own fingers pull down his blacks, exposing enough of his neck to administer a stim shot. You can see as it begins to kick in, numbing the pain and giving him a boost of energy. His face begins to soften, body relaxing a bit. 

Kix calls for an evac, two troopers easing the Captain onto a stretcher before removing him from the heat of the battle. You clear your head, moving on to the next injured trooper. The battle isn’t over. You have a lot more work to do before you can think about this new development. 

****

You wipe your brow, body starting to drag as the adrenaline crashes. The battle had ended, but your job was only getting started. There was still a field of injured troopers that needed care, as well as a full med bay. 

“I’m impressed.” Kix says, finishing applying the bacta patch on the final trooper that needed care. “Not many nat-borns can keep going that long after being in the field.” 

You shrug. “It’s not my first time on the battlefield. My home planet was one of the first invaded by the Separatists. Most of it was wiped out by the battles. I learned very quickly to stay busy. If you’re not doing anything, you remember you’re human and you crack.” 

Kix puts a hand on your shoulder. “Go get some rest. We’ll be fine here.” 

“Thank you, sir.” You nod, heading off to the bunks. 

You hop in the refresher, wishing it was real water, but the sonic shower will do. You don’t let it hit you until you crawl into your bunk, letting the day wash over you finally. You’re shaking, silent tears rolling down your cheeks. You’d mastered the quiet cry a long time ago, not wanting to disturb your fellow medics getting some much needed rest.

You’re exhausted, but you’ve seen far too much today to let yourself rest just yet. 

You need to work through it. If you bottle it up, you’ll only explode later. 

You close your eyes, the image of the jaig eyes coming to the front of your brain. There was no mistaking it. It wasn’t the confusion of battle, or the stress making you see things. The Captain of the 501st has jaig eyes on his helmet, in the same shade of blue as the ones printed on your chest, right over your heart. 

This is going to complicate things. 

It was one of the first things you were taught in your training. Under no circumstances were clones allowed to initiate their soulmate links. If, by chance, one of them happened to be your soulmate, the link had to be rejected. If a clone was found to have iniated the link, they would be decommisioned immediately. 

It’s cruel, but you can understand why. 

The soulmate link is a powerful motivator. The clones were designed to be loyal, focused, and dedicated to fighting and winning the war. Many of the first generation of clones had deserted upon learning of their soulmate marks. It seemed even the most potent conditioning couldn’t overcome the yearning of ones soul to find its other half. 

Even the most loyal clone would turn their back upon meeting the soulmate. 

The thought of being rejected is terrifying. It’s a painful process for both involved. Some who have experienced it claim it feels like your body is being turned inside out, every cell on fire as your soul destroys the link. You remember every second of it, the horrible pain and the grief that settles in as you realize you’ll never be able to feel the same again. 

You’ll never be the same again. 

You can’t tell the Captain. He can never know. You can’t stand the thought of being rejected. Though the pain would ease with time, you’ll never forget it. You’d rather suffer through the pain of being so close but never initiating than feel the rejection of someone who may never have wanted to reject you. 

****

Time flies quickly now that you’ve established yourself amongst the 501st. The Legion is constantly on the move, burning through battle after battle with little rest in between. According to Kix this is very common, with the Legion going sometimes weeks without a break. You know it can’t be good for them, recognizing the exhaustion on many of the trooper’s faces and in their body language. 

You’re beginning to feel it too, tension knotting in your shoulders and the quality of your sleep has been declining. You know it’s not just the stress of constant adrenaline and work, though. Constantly being within close proximity of your soulmate and doing absolutely nothing about it has been wearing on you as well. You’ve spoken maybe ten words to each other when Kix had introduced you to the Captain after the first battle when you’d helped care for him. 

Since then, you’d only seen him in passing. 

It’s slowly driving you insane. 

You’ve grown close to some of the troopers, especially those that frequented the med bay for “unjustified reasons” as Kix liked to call it. It was his code for “they did something stupid and now we have to fix them.” 

You can’t really blame them for being a bit reckless sometimes. They deserved to have some fun every once in a while. 

“There’s my favorite medic!” A heavy arm slings around your shoulder, nearly making your knees buckle. You’d been in one of the storage areas, cataloging everything the med bay needed to stock up on once you landed on Coruscant. “Excited about shore leave?” Fives asks. 

“Actually I am.” You say, honestly. You had planned to book a hotel room and sleep off the stress. You hope the distance from your soulmate will help ease the tension that’s been building. 

“A bunch of us are gonna hit 79s. You should come with us.” Echo says, popping up on the other side of you. You had been wondering where he was, as the two were rarely far from each other. 

It’s a tempting offer. Losing yourself in a bar for a night might help ease the stress. Unless Captain Rex planned on being there too. 

“I don’t know...” You say, chewing your lip. “I was planning on just relaxing.” 

“Come on,” Fives squeezes you against his side. “It’s your first shore leave. Let us show you how we celebrate.” 

You almost say no, but perhaps spending time around others will help you feel better. Even if Captain Rex is there, alcohol can help you forget. Perhaps you could even find someone else, someone to help you forget. 

“Fine.” You sigh, but a smile tugs at your lips. “I’ll come with you.” 

They both cheer, giving you breath-stealing pats on the back. Sometimes they forget they have to be gentler with non-clones. 

“Meet you on the landing platform at 19:00 hours.” Five says. 

You salute him jokingly, making your way to the med bay with a smile on your face. 

***

You’re glad you thought to pack a dress for occasions like this. You’re also glad you packed a dress that covers your chest. The last thing you need is any of them seeing it. Would they report you? Would they tell the Captain? You’d like to think they wouldn’t. It’s not like you’d even been trying to talk to the Captain. 

You check yourself in the mirror, making sure your mark is covered before you make your way out of the venator. As promised, a small group of guys is waiting on the landing pad, some of them having dressed down while others are still in their armor. 

Fives whistles lowly as you approach, your cheeks warming a bit. “Looking good, civvy.” 

“I mean, I know you’re a looker but kriff, you clean up well.” Jesse says, nonchalantly giving you a once over. 

Your face feels hot with their attention and compliments, not used to being on the receiving end. “Thanks, guys.” 

“Come on,” Fives tosses an arm across your shoulders. “Let’s get going!” 

***

You feel warm, slightly buzzed as you make your way back towards the bunks. It’s late...or early depending on how you look at it. You’d had a good time with the guys. You’d danced and drank and laughed a lot. It was a good distraction, and it helped you decompress a bit. You’re exhausted, though, still ready to sleep the rest of shore leave away before you inevitably get thrown into another battle. 

It’s the alcohol that’s dulled your senses a bit, not even noticing the person rapidly approaching behind you until they’ve spun you around, pressing you back into the wall. 

“Fives!” You blink in shock up at Fives, his brow furrowed as he stares down at you. “W-What are you doing?” 

Your heart is racing as his hand lifts towards your dress, all the worst possible things flashing through your head. He’s a flirt, but you’d never thought he’d go this far. Your buzzed brain has just got it in you to call out for help when his hand tugs the neck of your dress to the side, revealing the mark on your chest. 

“I knew it.” He says, letting your dress fall back into place. 

“How did you-” 

“I glimpsed it while we were dancing.” He says simply. “I had to be sure.” 

You step away from the wall, adjusting your dress. “Well you could have just asked instead of giving me a heart attack.” 

“Sorry.” He says, actually managing to look guilty. “Why haven’t you said anything?” 

“I don’t want to get rejected.” You say. “I’d rather live with the pain of him being close than live with the pain of rejection.” 

Fives snorts. “He won’t reject you.” 

You blink up at him. “What?” 

A grin tugs at Fives’ lips. “He won’t reject you. Most of us don’t agree with the rule against soulmates, and we don’t plan on following it. Rex may be a Captain, but he’s not going to reject you just because he’s supposed to. If we followed the rules as rigidly as we’re supposed to, most of us would be dead already.” He puts a hand on your shoulder. “Talk to him. You never know when it might be too late.” 

***

Despite Fives’ admission to their willingness to bend the rules, you haven’t approached the Captain. Partly because you’re still afraid, and also partly because you haven’t had time. After the brief shore-leave, the Legion had been thrown into a long campaign that had been taking its toll. Many, many troopers were injured, and you barely got time to sleep, let alone do anything else. 

Like approaching the Captain about your soulmate mark.  

After two long weeks of grueling battles, it’s finally over. Well, at least the fighting. You still have an overflowing med bay to get through. 

Hours later, most of the troopers have been stabilized and on their way to healing. Kix sends you away, practically ordering you to bed. You don’t argue, your feet already dragging as you leave the med bay. You need a long cry and a nap, ready to crash. 

You hadn’t meant it literally, but it seemed fate was getting tired of your avoidance. 

You walk straight into a hard chest, nearly falling backwards. Hands steady you, and you look up right into the eyes of Captain Rex. 

“S-Sorry Captain.” You stutter, taking a step back. “I-I wasn’t paying attention.” 

“It’s alright.” He says, still holding your gaze. “I know you’ve been overwhelmed in the med bay recently. You’re all working hard.” 

You nod. “Yeah.” You continue to stare at him, the words bubbling out of you before you can stop them. “I need to speak with you. Alone.” 

He blinks in surprise. “Oh. Is there...something wrong? Is it one of the troopers?” 

You shake your head. “No, no. It’s...” You almost backtrack. You almost change your mind, but those soft brown eyes draw you in. “It’s personal.” 

He hesitantly leads you into one of the many storage rooms, making sure it’s empty. You hope no one walks in. You’re already nervous about bringing this up to the Captain. You’d rather not have to try and explain this to someone else. 

You turn to face him as the door slides shut, looking up into his eyes again. His face is drawn and focused, and you almost feel bad for throwing this on him. 

“I think you’re my soulmate.” You blurt out, wanting to get it all out in the open. 

His eyes widen in surprise. “What?” 

You bite your lip, stripping off your gear enough that you can lower the neckline of your shirt a bit. You draw it down, revealing the mark on your skin. “It appeared almost eleven years ago.” 

He steps closer, staring hard at the mark. His hand lifts, his gloved fingers tracing over the lines of the jaig eyes. “The medic’s symbol.” He says, eyes still staring at the mark on your chest. “My mark, it’s the medic’s symbol.” 

You let out a long breath. Fate really does plan out everything perfectly. 

His hand leaves your chest, lifting to cup your chin. You step closer to him, your chests almost touching. How desperately you want to kiss him, to initiate the bond. You’re not even sure that’s what he wants. 

“I think I’ve known since Kix introduced us.” He says, his hand still holding your chin.

“I knew the moment I saw you on the battlefield, when you got shot.” You say. 

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” He asks. 

“I didn’t want to get rejected.” You admit. “I-I thought...but then Fives said-” 

“Fives knows?” He asks. 

You nod. “He saw the mark when we went out to 79s last shore leave.” 

His grip tightens just a bit on your chin, jealousy flashing in his eyes. 

“Nothing happened.” You quickly add, realizing your words left a little too much unsaid. “We just danced, and he confronted me after about it. He said you clones aren’t quite as uptight when it comes to rules as everyone thinks.” 

The side of his mouth lifts in a smirk. “Not in this Legion at least. I do wish you’d said something sooner, but I understand if you didn’t know...I’m not going to reject you.” He holds you still for a moment before dropping his hand. “The General is being called back to Coruscant, so we’ll get a short leave once we return. Two hours after we land, come to the barracks. I’ll make sure they’re empty.” 

Your stomach squirms with excitement. Even if you do nothing but sit and talk, the prospect of being close to your soulmate has your body coming alive. You nod, hardly able to contain yourself. 

You don’t feel quite so tired anymore as you make your way to your own barracks. 

***

The two hours after landing seems to take a lifetime. Your eyes flash to the chronometer constantly. The first half hour hadn’t been so dreadful, as you had spent most of that helping move still recovering troopers, and loading up carts to pick up supplies. 

Then you’d found yourself with nothing to do but wait, so you had returned to your barracks to wait out the hour and a half before you’d make your way to the clone barracks. You’d considered dressing up, but you thought that might draw too much attention. Wearing light gear could at least give you an excuse for being there, should anyone ask. 

You head out ten minutes before, knowing it will take you that long to get across the ship. The trooper’s bunked on the opposite side of the ship from the medics, who were close to the med bay. 

Your stomach flutters with nerves and excitement the entire way. You’d thought about this moment for a long time, though it’s not quite playing out like you had expected. You’re not complaining, though. You’re lucky to have someone as loyal and caring as the Captain for your soulmate. 

You make it to the barracks, Captain Rex waiting outside the door. He’s removed his armor, wearing only the blacks underneath. You greet him with a smile, and he returns it. You like it, you realize, seeing him smile. 

He leads you inside, this set of barracks smaller than the others. It’s specially set up, he tells you, for the more higher ranking clones. The Captain, the ARC troopers, and those on his specialized squad. 

He leads you to the bed closest to the fresher, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t really plan anything. I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing something you don’t want.” 

You put a hand on his arm. “I figured we’d just let things happen naturally. Even if all we do is sit and talk, that’s fine with me.” 

He smiles down at you. “Then let’s talk.” 

And so you do. 

You tell him everything. From your earliest memories to getting your mark, to the devastation of your planet during the start of the war. You tell him about how you’d planned to visit Mandalore in hopes of finding your soulmate, and how you’d given up that dream to join the GAR. 

He tells you everything about himself too. Growing up too fast on Kamino, the endless training, being called to the front when the war started, how he was there on your home planet when it was attacked, all the men he’s lost, the stress of the war. They’d been designed to be more resilient to high stress situations, but the grief of loss and the exhaustion still weighs on him. 

You wrap your arms around him before you even think about it. You feel for him, you really do. As much as they’re supposed to be just numbers in an army fighting a war they didn’t even volunteer to be a part of, you know they’re more than that.

“That’s why most of us don’t follow the rule about soulmates.” He says, his arms wrapped around you. “We have to believe there’s something beyond war and loss.” 

“I’m glad you don’t agree with it.” You say, resting your head on his shoulder. “I don’t think I could have given you up.” 

His hand slides up your back, moving to rest between your shoulder blades. “I...don’t have a clue what I’m doing.” 

“I don’t think anyone does.” You say, and you mean it. “I think most of it is just supposed to...be natural. It’s supposed to feel right.” 

He pulls away from you, looking down at you. Your faces are inches apart, breath mingling. This close you can see the lines on his face, the light scattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks. 

“You’re kinda beautiful.” You say, staring at him. 

“I think I’m the one that’s supposed to say that.” He says, leaning in closer. “You’re the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen.” 

Your cheeks heat up, a goofy smile tugging at your lips. “Stop. I am not.” 

He cups your face, his gloved thumb tracing your cheek. “Of course you are. You were made for me, after all.” 

Your lips meet, a spark shooting through you. You feel warm and light, pure energy racing through your nerves. His grip tightens on you, pulling you closer against him. He's warm and solid, like a cabin during an ice storm. 

He groans quietly against your lips, pulling you into his lap. You settle against him, tilting your head as the kiss deepens. You hadn't really planned on going this far, but you now understand why people say once you meet your soulmate, it's uncontrollable. 

He pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours. "I don't want to feel like I'm rushing you."

You smile. "I want this too. I don't think I could stop."

He wraps his arms around your waist, flipping you easily onto your back. "Good. I don't think I can either." 

He presses his lips back against yours, slotting his body against you. He's all lean muscle, fitting perfectly against you. He presses even closer, something hard poking against your thigh. 

You smile into the kiss, shifting your hips slightly to create some friction. You're already damp, your body well prepared for this moment. It had been building up for weeks. You can tell now, how much you'd been yearning for him, even if you hadn't noticed before. 

His lips trail down your jaw, charting a path down your throat. You arch into him, fingers digging into his broad shoulders. You tug at his blacks, one of his hands reaching back to pull the top off over his head. 

You run your fingers down his chest, feeling over every bump and scar. 

“I’ll tell you about them later.” He says, tucking his face back into your neck. You have a few too he’ll want to know about. “Right now, I want to see you.” 

You smirk up at him. “Then you best get to work, Captain.” 

He matches your smirk, sitting up on his heels. “That’s brave, issuing orders to your commanding officer.” 

“Well, in certain situations, I outrank you.” You reply. 

He unbuckles your med kit, setting it on the floor. “Don’t tell me Kix has been putting ideas in your head.” His hands slip under your shirt, trailing along your skin. “I’ll make a pass, though. This is one situation where I don't mind being told what to do.” 

You gape up at him for a moment. “Do you...like being told what to do, Captain?” 

He pulls your shirt over your head, tossing it onto the floor. Your breastband quickly follows, heat blossoming across your neck and chest as he stares at you. You feel a bit self-conscious under the intensity of his gaze. “Only if it’s you.” He says. “You’re so beautiful.” 

You smile shyly, reaching out for him. “Not quite as beautiful as you.” 

“Definitely more beautiful than me.” He says, leaning into your touch. 

“I’ve been waiting so long for you.” You say, caressing his face. 

“Then I won’t make you wait any longer.” He presses a kiss to your lips before sitting back up, undoing his belt. He slips his pants off, tugging yours off as well. 

You should feel self conscious being bare in front of him, especially only knowing him for a short time, but it feels natural. You know it’s natural. You were meant to be together. 

He slots his body against yours once more, his hard length pressing up against your core. You’re already wet in anticipation, more than ready to seal your bond completely. It’s a bit strange after having thought you might get rejected if you ever revealed it to him, but you’re glad he’s at least willing to break the rules about this. 

His hips grind against yours, dragging his length against your folds. You moan, spreading your legs further for him. You want him as close as possible. You need to have him as close as possible. 

“You’re so wet for me.” He groans, dragging his hips against yours. 

“I need you.” You whimper, arms wrapping around him. “Kriff, please Rex.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He says, kissing your throat before he reaches down, lining himself up. 

Hearing him say it stirs something in you, heat rushing straight between your legs. You slot that away for later, focusing instead on him as he slowly presses into you. The stretch burns a bit, but he goes slow, moving inch by inch until he’s seated inside you. You shiver at the close contact, your body coming alive from how connected you are. 

“Kriff, you’re so tight.” He groans, dropping to his elbows over you. “Fit me so perfectly.” 

“Well, I was made for you.” You say, wrapping your arms back around him. 

“So perfect for me.” He says, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

He begins moving, small thrusts as he drags his hips against yours. You cling to him, wanting him as close as you can get him. The sensations and the thought of having him so close set every nerve ending alight in your body, energy thrumming through you. You know it's the connection, the link you share coming alive. 

You love the feeling of it. 

It’s a bit sloppy and awkward, as neither of you are experts. You don’t care though, the pleasure still building as picks up speed. He’s close too, you can tell by the desperation of his movements. You slip a hand down between you, circling your clit as you near the edge. 

He stills as he cums, your own orgasm washing over you at the same time. You cling to him, holding him as close as possible as you ride out your highs together. 

“How much time do you think we have?” You say, holding him on top of you. 

“More than enough.” He says, letting himself sink closer to you. “I told Fives to keep them out as long as possible. 

***

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. You had been so comfortable and comforted by Rex’s presence, you had just drifted off without trying. 

It’s the arrival of the other troopers that has drawn you from your slumber. Rex’s arm tightens around your waist, obviously having heard their return as well. So much for keeping this a secret. 

You hope maybe they’ll all stumble to bed tiredly and not even look in your direction. You’re hidden from the door by Rex’s body, his arm pulling the sheet up higher inconspicuously. 

“I see the Captain’s been busy while we were away.” A smug voice says. 

“Ha! I called it! You owe me 20 credits!” Another voice calls out. 

“Fives,” Rex growls, going to turn around, but you sit up, clutching the sheet to your chest. You’re still very much naked. 

“Wait, did you bet on us?” You ask in disbelief. 

“You owe me another 20!” Hardcase exclaims, slapping Jesse’s shoulder.

Rex wraps an arm around you, pulling you back down. “Let them have their fun. I’ll make them all do extra rounds in the training room tomorrow.” 

There’s a simultaneous groan from all of them as they shuffle to their bunks to get ready. 

“Don’t worry, cyar’ika. Your secret is safe with us.” Hardcase says. 

“Just as long as I don’t feel the bunk shaking.” Jesse says, climbing up to the top bunk. 

“No promises.” Rex smirks, wrapping his arms back around you.  

Taglist:

@stressed-cherry

[miokki]

# RIBBONS OF AFFECTION

✰ synopsis: xiao’s small act of showing affection and a larger encounter.

✰ paring: xiao x gn!reincarnated!reader

✰ warnings: crying ig and past lives

✰ notes: tbh i no idea what this fic is about. it was supposed to be about ribbons but it turned into reincarnation??

XIAO is rather shy by nature—blood quickly rushes to his ears whenever he gets flustered, even by the most simple gestures. this time is no exception, as xiao is picking out flowers for you. the feeling of the flower store has always had this moist atmosphere, yet it feels best during the morning; right when the last of the dews drip off the leaf.

as he enters, the bell attached to the door rings alerting the woman behind the forest green counter, who only smiles before looking back down at the materials in front of her. the store is decorated in colours and life, with flowers on one side displayed in the window and a longer area full of blooms to his right. the blossoms being the brighter shades that human life seems to be afraid of nowadays, the shades dance in front of xiao as he continues to stare.

in truth, he has very limited experience with flowers and its symbolism; less is known about how much you like flowers. yet, xiao isn’t known to ask and only hopes that you’ll understand the vision as he admires the beauty of the them—each petal handled with such delicateness and care. yet, his mind swiftly switches to you and the way you handle him—like porcelain, like glass. that’s what your touch feels like. your skin on his is a hot fire burning on his, yet it’s gentle. in a way that makes him feel that no one has been kind to him—at least not before you.

he wishes there were more to convey his ocean like affections for you, something that meant his life long oath to you. yet, you wouldn’t agree such a thing, he thinks. he finds it strange humans, your kind, can be the same yet completely different. he’s seen humans that want the world, but seem to only want to love him and live knowing your boyfriend loves you back.

“excuse me?” he asks quite meekly to the florist standing by the counter.

the florist gaze meets his, “mm, how can i help?” her smile glows as she disregards the floral foam and roses in front of her.

“what flowers would you recommend, for my partner?” he replies.

her smile widens, and xiao tenses as she moves from behind the counter and towards him. however, he soon relaxes, his shoulders now sitting in a comfortable position as she speaks purely of her craft. xiao watches as she points to all different shades, some of of white, some of red. yet, it still leaves him feeling clueless and embarrassed. it isn’t long before, the florist is stumped. simply unsure of what other flowers could the man want.

“i’m sorry for troubling you,” xiao says, sounding incredibly apologetic.

“nono, you’re fine. it’s not everyday someone shows up with a challenge.” the florist panics as her hand waved in the morning air before she turns back to grab a book and pencil. “tulips.. no, maybe something else.” she turns the page. “we’ve gone over liles… ahah, what about some chrysanthemums?” she turns her head to xiao and xiao tilts his.

“those white ones over there,” she directs, pencil hanging out of her mouth as her finger lifts up to point the white flowers sitting on the middle shelf. yet before xiao can get a closer look, the light wood from her lips drops and her hands start to shake from her joy. “oh my! i have some leftover carnations in the back. give me a second, i have a really cute idea.” then she starts to run off.

it’s not long after that she comes back out of the storeroom with a bunch of white chrysanthemums, pink carnations and a hand full of baby breath, along with rolls of paper and ribbon all wrapped in her arms. a smile spread across her tan skin, and her rosy cheeks bright and clear in the sun as the materials land on the wooden surface.

it isn’t long before the range of flowers transforms into bouquet, lands in xiao’s callused palms and is paid for in full. however, the bunch of petals doesn’t leave the store without a series of thank you’s, smiles and goodbye’s before xiao exits. the bell ringing behind him as he walks along the streets of liyue. internally smiling to himself as he travels back home.

“xiao?” your voice rings in his ears.

you grip onto the tote bag’s handle resting on your right shoulder as you lift off the heels of your shoes. a shocked look splattered on your boyfriend’s features as you speed toward him, the stone under your feet scratching against the soles of your shoes. fresh morning air spreads across your face while you loose the distance between the two of you.

“hun, i’ve been wondering where you’ve been all morning. i was worried,” you say to his face before looking down at his left hand. “oh, are those mums?” you point at the white flowers.

“chrysanthemums? yes, do you not like them?” your lover’s eyes displays a thousand words, years of worry in them, as he stumbles over the word ‘chrysanthemums’. it’s endearing.

you can’t help but panic all the same, “nono, i love them, their beautiful. but how come your look disappointed?” you question, staring at the somber look in his golden eyes.

“i wanted to surprise you. i hadn’t anticipated that you would go out to find me.” the discontent takes a spotlight in the pools of gold and stars.

oh. perhaps you should just pretend to be blind and walk—

“i mean you still can, i’ll just pretend i never saw you this morning and—“ you begin to walk back in the direction you came from yet don’t make it far. you barely get two feet away before your wrist is used to tug you back to him.

he pushes the flowers towards you, “i want you to have them now, even if it didn’t go to plan. i should of known, i’m always meant to find you in every lifetime.”

you take a step forward as you hear a break in xiao’s voice, your lips closing in on the side of his porcelain face. you place a gentle smiled kiss on his skin before taking the bouquet from his grasp. you stop. you stare and admire it for its beauty. yet your eyes catch onto the pink ribbon loosely wrapped and tied into a pretty bow around the pieces of paper and parchment that hold the stems. it only takes a moment and a half for your fingertips to caress the thin, long line of closely woven fabric and to tug it undone. a long line now in your hold along with the bouquet.

“here, give me your hand.” you gesture towards his left as you lift your right towards his.

your boyfriend holds up his pinky as you lift your own, carefully placing the bouquet in between your arm and you side. xiao watches intently as you wrap the ribbon around his finger twice and tie it off with a knot before doing the same to your own pink before tying it off with a bow. the sun shines in your eyes as the ribbon between creates a curve.

“here, i know we can’t see it normally but it isn’t just you that finds me, i chase after you too. i found you here after you disappeared this morning. and in every life time this ribbon will lead us both to each other, in all my life times. you’re not alone xiao, i’m here now at the very least.” you reassure, combing back his green toned hair out of his face.

he can’t help but laugh. he smiles. xiao smiles so brightly that you can watch the moment his eyes start to shine with tears. yet the moment the tears starts to roll, you pull him straight into your embrace, rubbing his back and whispering your affections for him.

do not copy or repost any of my works.

@ miokki 2024

[blues824]

OKOKOKOK-

Could you do prompt 4 and 12 with Jade and Rook??? I just feel like they'd really spoil their partner and be MORE THAN HAPPY to be dragged around to look at shiny things lol

(have fun with each days prompts and remember to drink water & take lots of breaks!!!!!!)

You requested: Gift Giving + Christmas Market

Jade Leech

You were not going to lie, you thought it was kind of suspicious when he asked you if you would accompany him to the Christmas Market in the town below NRC. Azul tried to vouch for him as well, but you trusted the cecaelia even less. However, going against your better judgment, you decided to give them the benefit of the doubt and trust Jade.

Now here you were, dragging him around as you went to look at the different things that the open-air stalls had to offer. You had gotten about two cups of hot chocolate at this point, and so you were running on a bit of a sugar high. The tweel you were on a date with just let you take his hand and lead him about, and he had more than enough money to spoil you.

He had gotten you a sweater, but in reality he had gotten himself a sweater because he knew that you were gonna make him wear it until it smelled like him. Besides, you were still going to steal his other ones anyway. Might as well, right? Anyway, you had also gotten a few stuffed animals, and even a new blanket, even though you often stay in his dorm. You also picked up some tuna for Grim to enjoy.

At the end of your date, your legs were done. Instead of letting you sit down and rest, though, he just knelt down and let you climb onto his back as he gave you a piggyback ride. You leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek before you nodded off, falling asleep as he carried you to Octavinelle, where you were less-than-gracefully dumped onto his bed.

Rook Hunt

When he heard that there was a Christmas Market in the town below, he was very excited about it. He immediately went to go find you, and when he did, he attached a letter as well as a rose to an arrow and shot it into a nearby tree, asking you on a date. Sure, you both were dating already, but he was not one to let the romance run dry. He wanted to always and forever keep you on your toes.

You felt like you were in one of those cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies from back into your world. He let you take him by the hand and drag him from stall to stall, just happy to be in the presence of his beloved. He also insisted upon paying for everything you wished to get; he had a few photography gigs that he picked up for some wealthy people in the area and had a lot of money to spend.

He bought you a bouquet of red roses, symbolizing his love for you in the language of flowers. He then bought you gloves and a scarf so that you may be warm. When you told him that you felt bad because he was paying for everything, he told you that any man who had the privilege of calling you his beloved would pluck the stars from the sky if only you asked.

If you didn’t feel like the big-city-person-returns-to-hometown protagonist in a Hallmark Christmas movie before, you certainly did now with the amount of love that Rook had in his eyes as he looked at you. When you were ready to head back, he took you back to Ramshackle and tucked you into bed, staying with you until you fell asleep. Unfortunately, Vil still exists, so he couldn’t stay with you for the entire night.

[libbee]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS April 2023

Scorpio is known for sex but I think it is the earth signs that are actually sensual. Earth signs such as Taurus, Virgo and Capricorn deal with senses and are the most stimulated by touch, visuals, taste, voice, beauty, pleasures of the senses. They are not intuitive but rather sensual, materialistic and interact with what is tangible, seen, physical. While Scorpio is intuitive and deals with intangible, unseen and spiritual.

Then why is Scorpio linked to sex? It is not about sexual pleasure and more about craving rebirth. Fact with Scorpios is that they discover a layer of themselves everyday going through life. Their identity, personality, beliefs need evolving and they need to die to be reborn. That intense sex is them tuning to their intuition and when they orgasm something in them dies. Since it is intuitive, each Scorpio will know what has died but it is not possible to tell it in words because it is a symbolic death. Sex to them is like a ritual, a sacred practice that assists them in passing from one stage to the next.

The force of 8th house is against will power. At best I read on a social media forum it being described like "Plutonic force is like your head being shaved against your will power, no matter how much you resist, it will happen".

Rahu can be such a fake, illusion maker and a mirage. Wherever it is placed in the natal chart can show what area of life is shown as the "ideal, picture perfect, larger than life, wow factor" but it is actually just empty behind the screen. If Rahu is in 1st house, native appears to be this dashing, grand, all-rounder person but actually nobody knows if they are actually that person or not, nobody seen them doing what they claim to do, it is just the image. If Rahu is in 10th house, they have this mirage illusion of being hard working, leader, planner, entrepreneur but they are not actually all that. If Rahu is in 7th house, they have this image of ideal partner, picture perfect couple, dream partner but actually it is just a mirage. It is the social perception that is ideal/mirage but in private something entirely different happens. For eg, they gift 100 roses to their loved one in office. Wow! How lucky, how romantic. Yet at home, they are like the partner does not even exist, totally different.

8th house moons can be hypersensitive to their mom's voice. It is as if they grow up and suddenly they are super reactive to their mom. If she says anything, 8H moon screams. "Be quiet!", "Change your tone of voice", they complain their mom irritates them which can be actually repressed memories of childhood being triggered every time mom says something. In the worst cases, they can even abuse their moms which is called "reactive abuse" where the party can no longer tolerate the abuser and explodes in anger.

Fire sign risings surely give the PERCEPTION of confidence, self assurance, burning hot even if they are extremely insecure inside, it would not appear in their persona. It is the rising sign that is how others see us and how we show ourselves to others, it is autonomous, spontaneous and unchangeable for this lifetime. Fire signs can be going through failures but not show in their faces.

Planets in 1st house emit the energy of themselves. But beware! 1st house is just the persona and your impression on others - not the actual person behind the mask. So Sun in 1st house = public perception is they are so confident and self secure. Mercury = they are so intelligent and cheerful. Jupiter = they are so wise and guide. Even if native is not these things, people are somehow convinced that they are those qualities just because of their facial expressions + language + vibes.

It is very important for 8th housers to be discerning in choosing their company/partner/friends. 8th housers are prone to feeling negative emotional hurts because they have survived extreme emotional situations in childhood, the side effects of which will last a lifetime. I also think that these natives inherit emotional wounds from their ancestors that makes them carry so much burden on their shoulders. So, they should choose such people who are empathetic, emotionally intelligent, know some psychology and know that "the wounds of swords and gun can heal but not that of the tongue". An unhealed 8th houser is like an open invitation to the world "come use me" and when the native has had enough of betrayals and shocks, they turn inwards to start doing self introspection, analysis of human nature and undergo drastic transformation.